Lewis nodded, before looking down at his lap.
“For the tape, I am showing Lewis a photograph of a Berghaus ruck-sack, and he is nodding to confirm that the bag belongs to him.”
“Can you tell us what is inside that bag please?” It was Saunders asking again, his tone still quite stern.
“Look, right, all I’ve done was phone a fire engine. Now you’re going on about what I was…”
“I am showing Lewis a photograph of the bag, along with its contents. What can you tell us about these items?”
The suspect looked at the photograph which Miller was holding up.
“They are cans of spray paint.”
“That’s right. For the benefit of the tape, the photograph shows seven aerosol cans, all of which are cans of car paint in various colours. Gold, silver, blue, black.”
“What can you tell us about these cans of paint Lewis?”
The young man shrugged and started making a circular motion on the table-top with his fingertip.
Miller decided it was time to wrap this up. This poor bastard had been through enough.
“Listen Lewis. If you have a bit of a job on the side at night, that’s not a matter the police would be interested in. But we do need to eliminate you from the enquiry. So, if you can tell us what you were doing, walking through Denton in the dead of night with a ruck-sack full of spray-paint, we’ll be able to let you go.”
Lewis continued doodling with his fingertip. Saunders and Miller looked at one another, they exchanged a glance which confirmed that they were both thinking the same thing. The lad was a bit dim.
“So,” said Saunders, in a bid to help Lewis out of his hole. “Is it correct what DCI Miller has suggested, that you have been moonlighting in a garage, painting cars to earn a bit of extra money?”
Suddenly, the penny dropped. Lewis looked up at the two detectives who were smiling at him.
He started nodding enthusiastically.
“For the tape, Lewis is nodding.”
“Okay, well, I think that answers all of our questions for today DI Saunders. Are you happy to conclude the interview?”
Saunders looked at his boss. “Yes, I don’t have any further questions, Sir.”
“Okay. Interview terminated at zero nine thirty hours. Lewis, you are free to go.” Miller switched the tape recorder off.
“Spray painting cars! Whatever! Come on Lewis, lets go and get your smelly trainers and book you out. DI Saunders will drive you home.”
“Right. Nice one. Can I have my paint back as well?”
Miller and Saunders looked at each other and laughed loudly. Lewis looked on, he appeared slightly confused.
“Don’t take the fucking piss, mate.”
Chapter Sixteen
Saunders dropped the young lad off at his home in Denton, before heading back to HQ to keep his promise of meeting with DS Rudovsky regarding the Hartley case. He felt quite wretched as she had asked for a chat first thing, but he’d been stuck in the interview with Lewis. He decided to give her a quick call to let her know that he was on his way.
“Jo, hiya mate, sorry. Been stuck in an interview. We found out that he had nowt to do with the fire about half an hour before we went in. Just needed to be double-sure. I’m on my way over to you now.”
“Oh, right. Good news. We’re looking good on this, might have it boxed off today.”
“Really? Bloody hell. That’s a turn-up.”
Rudovsky walked across the office floor, closer to her officers. She wanted a certain detective to hear what she was saying to her superior officer.
“Yes, well, it’s all down to Bill. He’s stayed here all night and he’s turned up some magic.”
“No way! I was taking the piss out of him last night. When I saw he was still at his desk, I asked him if he’d died.”
Rudovsky forced herself not to laugh. That wouldn’t sound good after she’d just been praising Chapman. She quickly thought of something to say. “Absolutely, I’ll pass that on. So how long will you be?”
“Oh, is he there? Soz. Right, I’ll be about fifteen minutes.”
“Cool. Can we talk in the gaffer’s office?”
“Yes, just go in and wait for me. I’m looking forward to hearing about the developments.”
*****
Miller was heading into the CID department at Ashton nick. The Tameside detectives had been working non-stop on the investigation into the fatal fire. DCI Katy Green was heading the investigation into the case and was reporting directly to Miller, who was overseeing all five of the investigations into the betting shop attacks.
Katy was a young, but very ambitious woman. She was viewing this chance to work with Miller and the SCIU team as a very positive opportunity. This pleased Miller greatly as it often went the other way and divisional bosses could be quite hostile and negative when having to report to a different department. Katy was quite small, with a very slight build. She was waiting for Miller when he arrived back from custody.
“Hello Sir.”
“Hi.”
“How did it go?”
“Yes, as I expected really. He’s got no connection whatsoever to the fire.”
“So, his reluctance to stay around at the phone box was down to the spray-paint in his back-pack?”
“Yes. But I decided not to pursue that. It’s just paperwork and time. I managed to get him to confess to painting a car at his mate’s garage.”
Katy didn’t look as though she approved. Miller noted the expression. It told him that DCI Katy Green was a stickler, who liked to do things by the book. But there was no time for that kind of bullshit as far as Miller was concerned, not on this case anyway.
“So….” Said Miller, keen to move things on.
“Yes, we’ve had a major break-through.”
“Right?” Miller looked delighted to hear this news.
“I think you’ll like this.”
DCI Katy Green took Miller through to her office and invited him to sit down before explaining the break-through that her officers had managed to come up with overnight, and during the time that Miller had been down in the interview room.
Over the next ten minutes, Miller learnt that Katy Green ran a very efficient and productive team. They had managed to come up with the first set of clues as to who was responsible for the tragic arson attack which had shocked the nation. It was an extremely good response in such a short period of time and Miller was visibly impressed.
“Bit of a geography lesson to start with, I’m afraid.” DCI Green handed Miller a map which she had printed off. “This is the scene of the fire, at the junction of Windmill Lane and Seymour Street.” She pointed at the location on the map. “This road, Windmill Lane starts off as a built-up urban area at the Denton end, lots of terraced streets left over from the days of the mills. But as you can see, the terraces give way and the road soon turns into the main thoroughfare of a large industrial estate.”
Miller was studying the map as DCI Green continued. “Windmill Lane is a very lonely place at night, just empty factories and industrial units surrounded by spiked metal railings. As a consequence, the area does attract a fair amount of burglars who are keen to try and take advantage of how secluded the area is at night. This criminal activity has seen a major investment in CCTV systems, security patrols and all night security guards in the area.”
“Okay…” Miller wasn’t sure where this was heading, but he was familiar with Manchester’s industrial estates after dark. This one in Denton wasn’t particularly special.
“Sorry, okay, so the reason I’m making this point is to highlight the fact that we believe this betting shop was targeted specifically for its location. In essence, it appears that it was chosen primarily due to the ease of getting away from the crime scene relatively quickly.
Good, thought Miller. This is going somewhere, finally.
“My team have checked the factory’s CCTV cameras all along Windmill Lane and we have discovered that four people, believed to be mal
e, headed up this road, past all these factories and got into a vehicle, here.” DCI Green had been tracing her finger along the map to illustrate the route that the four people had taken.
Miller was a little confused by the place where DCI Green’s finger stopped, the bridge above the M60 motorway.
“So… why did they park so far away from the betting shop, that’s got to be, what half a mile?”
“Close, its just over. But the car was actually parked on the M60.”
Miller looked closer at the map.
“They’ve jumped the fence, run down the embankment and got into their car, which had been abandoned on the hard-shoulder.”
“What?” Miller looked and sounded stunned.
“Here’s a photo we’ve taken from CCTV on the motorway. The car was parked in that spot with hazards on for almost twenty-five minutes. It would appear that they’ve faked a breakdown.”
“That’s totally ludicrous!” Miller was confused by the utter stupidity.
“Well, that was my first thought too, Sir.”
“But?” Miller looked interested to hear what DCI Katy Green’s second thought had been.
“Well, it was actually genius. Had these individuals been stopped by police patrols, there’s literally no better alibi for walking around the streets of Denton in the dead of night, carrying petrol cans. Is there?”
*****
“Hi Jo. So, what’s been happening?” Saunders was asking questions before he’d even closed Miller’s office door. This sudden burst of enthusiasm was much appreciated by the DS. She’d been feeling a little abandoned on this case and in turn, had started to feel frustrated that the case was pretty much cracked, but none of her senior officers were involved, or were even taking an interest.
“Well, before I say anything, I just need to get summat off my chest.”
“Go on.” Saunders looked concerned as he sat down next to the DS, he knew from the tone of her voice that she was being serious.
“This has all come about because I had a bit of a heart-to-heart with Bill. We’ve buried the hatchet…”
“Shut up!” Saunders was smiling. Rudovsky and Chapman had been sworn enemies since day one. They just didn’t work well together, like Liam and Noel Gallagher.
“Seriously. We’ve started again, with a clean slate and he’s been absolutely amazing. He’s single-handedly cracked this one.”
Saunders had a weird look on his face. This was a very unlikely scenario. “Okay, well, hats off to Bill. Better late than never!”
“To be fair, he’s never been the same since Karen…” Rudovsky was talking about her former boss, DI Karen Ellis who had been shot dead in front of Chapman’s eyes. The comment reminded Saunders of a very dark time in his life, and Rudovsky instantly regretted bringing it up. An awkward moment passed slowly before Saunders composed himself and tried to move the conversation on, despite that rather insensitive reference to the worst day of his entire life.
“Sorry, Sir.”
“It’s alright. I’d not thought about that for at least a day. Go on, what’s the point that you were leading up to?”
“Right. Well,” Rudovsky took a deep breath. “I’ve been instructed that once we have a potential lead on this case, I’ve got to hand it over to divisional CID to clear it all up.”
“That’s right. So that the whole team can jump on this triple-murder arson case.”
“I know. I get that, totally…”
“But…”
“Well, if we do that, just at the point that Bill’s turned over a new leaf, it’s just going to piss him off and we’ll be back at square one with him.”
Saunders looked as though he was starting to see the point.
“It’s Dixon who’s…”
“I know. I’m just saying, you’ve got half of Manchester’s CID departments working on the arson job. Can we please just have another twenty-four hours to shut this down? Just so Bill can make the arrest and claim the glory. It’s really important.”
“Okay, fucking hell! I submit!”
“So, we can?”
“I didn’t say that. But I’ll ask the question.”
“When?”
“As soon as you’ve told me what Bill’s managed to uncover.”
Jo looked across at her boss and folded her arms across her chest.
“What?” Saunders looked puzzled and slightly bemused by Rudovsky’s weird body language.
“Come on Sir. Go and ask Dixon now. I’ll come with you. I can’t tell you the problems this is going to cause if Bill’s case is handed over to division for them to get the victory parade. Don’t forget this was the biggest case in the city until the fire.”
Saunders thought about what his colleague was saying. He could see that it was an awkward position for her to be in. “And you are refusing to tell me what the developments are?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
“Are you blackmailing me Detective Sergeant?”
Rudovsky grinned sarcastically. “Maybe. A little.”
“Right. Fuck’s sake.” Saunders took his phone out of his pocket and looked for Dixon’s number. He pressed the call icon and took a deep breath as it connected.
“Hello Keith. Everything okay?” Dixon sounded like his usual, grumpy self.
“Ah, yes, hello Sir. Just wondered if Jo Rudovsky and I could pop up and see you for five minutes?”
There was a long pause. It was Dixon’s typical boundary-setting exercise, designed to remind whoever he was long-pausing, that he was a really big deal. That was his intention anyway. In reality, people just thought he was a bit of a knob.
Eventually, just as Saunders was about to curl his toes, Dixon replied. “Yes, yes, I suppose that will be okay. Where is Andy?”
“He’s in Ashton, Sir. I should be with him, but Jo needed to update me and sound me out about her case. With DCI Miller otherwise engaged, I thought it might be best to contact you directly.”
Another stupidly long pause passed by. “Okay, well, if you can come now, I’ll see you. Otherwise it will have to wait until three o-clock.”
“Great. We’re on our way now, Sir, two-minutes. Thank you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Saunders and Rudovsky were walking up the stairs to the top floor of the MCP head-quarters. They both felt quite on-edge and nervous, it was always a bit tense going in to see Dixon. He always ensured that a visit to him felt like a visit to see a V.I.P.
“Right, Jo, listen, I’ll do the introduction into what’s been happening with Bill. Then you jump in and talk about how he’s the greatest copper working today. And then we’ll ambush Dixon with your demands. Okay?”
Rudovsky laughed nervously and nodded.
Saunders opened the door to the top-floor using his fob. Only he and Miller had the correct security clearance to get up here, the floor which housed the most powerful people in the MCP force, including the Chief Constable and his Deputies.
DCS Dixon was responsible for all of the city’s CID departments. He’d started out as a detective himself and had worked his way up through the ranks over a thirty-odd year career. Nowadays, he was a glorified, over-paid administrator who rarely got involved in any of the cases that his officers were working on.
The two SCIU senior officers paused outside his door and waited for the signal to enter. It was a hard job not to laugh when Dixon repeated the same ritual every time. He’d look up through the glass door, see who was waiting outside his door, before glancing back down at his desk, waiting a few seconds before saying “come.”
Saunders and Rudovsky walked into the musty smelling office which was filled with ancient books on police procedure and law stuff. The shelves stacked with hundreds of obsolete volumes was the source of the weird smell, which reminded most visitors of a school headmaster’s office.
“Okay, thank you Keith and Jo for coming along at such short notice.” This was another of Dixon’s stupid boundary setting exercises, m
aking sure that the two people before him knew that he was the main man.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Take a seat and tell me how I can help.”
Saunders started. “Well, as you know Sir, DCI Miller and myself are overseeing the divisional…”
“Yes, Keith, I’m quite aware of our operations.”
“Of course. Well, the thing is, we’ve left Jo in charge and she’s been working tirelessly on the Hartley case.”
“Very good.” Dixon stared at Rudovsky and nodded approvingly.
“Well, one major challenge that Jo has had since her promotion has been trying to manage a difficult working relationship with DC Bill Chapman.”
“Yes, well, I think we have all had an issue with Bill over the past couple of years. Andy talks to me regularly about the personality complexities within your department.”
“Really Sir?” asked Rudovsky, trying to sound more interested than she was. She just wanted to get this conversation to the point.
“Oh yes. I’ve been quite shocked by the deterioration in Bill Chapman’s attitude and work ethic. You do both realise that it was I who put him in the department when we started it up?”
Rudovsky and Saunders nodded. They knew that Chapman hadn’t been Miller’s choice of team member.
“Yes, well, I have to say, I thought that he’d have made DS by now, at least. But something has happened to that man. I’m aware of his divorce, that hit him hard. Plus, he’s piled the pounds on over the past decade. I’m very sad to see that he’s become something of a slave to the liquor as well. It’s a real shame.”
The two visitors nodded sympathetically.
“I’ve had him up here once or twice, you know, to discuss things.”
“Well, the thing is, Sir. Bill and I have always clashed, it’s just been one of those things. But over the past few days, I’ve seen a real change in him. He’s positive, conscientious, he appears to be trying hard to be a team-player. He stayed ridiculously late last night, working on the Hartley case.”
Dixon grinned. Even the man who had put his faith in Chapman all those years ago was shocked by the over-time detail. “How late?” he asked, his exaggerated expression of surprise made his visitors laugh politely.
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