by L M Krier
He hitched his glasses up his nose and looked at it in turn.
‘Aye, looks like Lucy. What’s this about, then?’
‘Mr Byrne disappeared a few months back. Had you heard?’ Morgan told them. ‘We’re just making some enquiries into his time living round here. Do you have a second name for this Lucy, and does she still live round here?’
‘No idea, love, this photo’s ancient. Must be, what, going on eight or ten years ago now, Bill, would you say?’
‘About that, aye. I’ve no idea where she is now. The mother died, didn’t she, love?’ he asked his wife.
‘She did, yes, poor soul. Overdose, I read. I don’t know where Lucy finished up, though.’
‘What was the mother’s name?’
‘Eeh, now you’re asking. Bill, can you remember?’
‘How should I know? I don’t think I ever saw her.’
‘Rob-something, perhaps? Robson? Roberts? Robinson? Some sort of a strange first name. Like a singer or something. Carly? Kylie? I honestly can’t remember.’
‘So what should we do next?’ Eric asked Amelie, after they’d thanked the couple and gone back to the area car. He took a walk all round it before getting in, just checking that it was in the same condition as when he’d left it and still had all its wheels.
‘After your second breakfast?’ she teased him. ‘I suppose we need to find out the mother’s full name, when she died, and how she died, if it’s relevant. Plus what happened to the daughter after she died. How do we do that?’
‘Quickest way is for you to phone Stefan, who we spoke to yesterday. I’ll give you the number. Ask nicely, remember to call him sarge and to say please, and tell him it’s me that’s needing the info. He can find it faster than we could by asking around.
‘In the meantime, I’ll drive us up to the address where Byrne used to live and we can go door to door there, asking about Lucy and her relationship with Byrne. If it was a dodgy one, someone will know. Whether or not they’ll tell us is another thing entirely.’
It was good to catch up with Josie and Jock. Even though the subject matter – the child abuse case in Spain – was dark and difficult, Josie could somehow crack jokes as she spoke, without losing the respect. And she had plenty of good news for Ted in the shape of strong evidence against not only the wanted criminal he had found purely by chance, but also against the former senior police officer he had gone out to Spain to interview in the first place.
‘You already know that Maxwell was thick enough to include himself in the porn films with the children. And now me and Jock have had the dubious honour of watching all of the many hours of film that were found, I can also tell you he was stupid enough to have himself filmed while he was killing one of them.
‘As for your delightful friend, ex-Superintendent Shawcross, I’m pleased to tell you we found his fingerprints and DNA all over the cameras used for making the films and in plenty of locations in the house.’
Ted frowned. ‘Of all the things Shawcross is, stupid isn’t one which sprang to my mind in the contact I had with him. He’s an ex-copper, after all. He must surely have realised that if anyone did ever happen to find that house and its dirty secrets, they’d also find those traces.’
Josie could be serious sometimes. She sounded earnest when she replied, ‘It just makes me think that there are others higher up the system who are involved in all of this and who were supposed to be covering the backs of those lower down. In a sense, I’m glad me and Jock have handed everything over to the Met now as part of their operation. We’ve done as much as us humble urban types can do. I’ve a feeling it’s going to get very dirty, the higher up it goes.
‘And I’ll tell you another thing, Ted, although no doubt it’s occurred to you, too. That twat in Gibraltar. Mercado. You and I have both been round the block. We’ve seen it happen before. Especially me, a black woman from a council estate and you, a gay man from wherever ...’
‘Miner’s son from the Lancashire coalfields,’ Ted supplied for her.
‘Okay. Not everyone likes to see us succeed. As soon as we start getting near the big names behind a case like this, suddenly some pit-bull with a tripe-writer – pun intended – goes after us both and tries to get the nationals to do the same. I’m betting that’s no coincidence.
‘Next time I get a bit of leave, if you lend me your Trev – purely for interpretation purposes, you understand – I’ve a good mind to go out to Gib and start digging into this Mercado bloke.’
‘Nice try, Josie, but I’m pretty sure they speak English in Gibraltar,’ Ted laughed. ‘Although I do think you may very well have a good point there with your theory.
‘Right, as I warned you, I have one or two things to sort out here before we go back and eat, if that’s okay with you. I thought perhaps, if you don’t mind, you could go and wait for me in our local. It’s not far and it’s a decent pub. You go out of here and turn ...’
‘Ted,’ Jock Reid interrupted him patiently. ‘We’re coppers. We can find the nearest pub in the pitch dark. Besides, Josie’s like a heat-seeking missile when it comes to the drink. We’ll be waiting there, whenever you’re ready.’
The two of them went off happily enough, leaving Ted to rejoin the team for a catch-up.
‘I’ve had confirmation now from the FIO that the method of starting the fire at the garage was identical to that used in the previous fire,’ Ted told them to begin with. ‘And therefore also the same as the one for which Warren is serving time. Although no convenient stub left this time. I’ll circulate the report but in summary, the circle of liquid was exactly three feet across, measured to the precise centimetre.’
‘Inch, boss,’ Jezza corrected him. Seeing from the look he gave her that he didn’t seem to be in the mood for joking, she hurried on, ‘What I mean is, if it’s a precise yard, it will be measured to the inch, not the centimetre. And that might perhaps be significant. Might it suggest someone older, who thinks in Imperial for everything, rather than metric? A younger person might possibly have made the circle a precise metre.’
‘It’s a valid point to keep in mind,’ Ted conceded. ‘Although it could simply point to someone clever enough to know that and to exploit it.’
‘Martha, how are you getting on with the tall-man-with-bag enquiries?’ Jo asked her.
‘Slowly, in a word. But I did spend some interesting time talking to a very nice drag queen this afternoon. I got some great make-up tips.’
There was a ripple of amusement, which Ted didn’t seem to share.
‘Did anyone know where you were going, Martha? I don’t remember hearing that visit mentioned this morning. And that person is a possible suspect in an arson. Someone we know nothing about. There should have been a risk assessment on that visit, and two of you present.’
‘Sorry, sir,’ she looked uncomfortable as she said it. ‘It was one of those spur of the moment things. Talking to someone else about the sighting, I just happened to get a lead about where the person was. I was nearby so I thought I’d make use of the time and go and talk to them. I should have called in first to check on what to do. Sorry.’
‘Basic procedure, everybody, please,’ Ted told them. ‘I know we’re stretched, with two cases, but we’re getting slip-ups and it’s not helping.’
‘My fault, boss,’ Jo said immediately. ‘I should be across everything and clearly I’m not. Has there been something else?’
‘I’ll fill you in when we’ve finished here.’
A few of the regular team members exchanged loaded glances. It was not like the boss to be in a mood. But he was clearly grumpy about something. Most of them were examining their consciences carefully, to see what they might have forgotten to do.
‘Steve, what about your eyewitness to the sighting of the tall man?’ Jo asked him. ‘Has he been in, and was he able to give any more detail? Anything more we could be going on?’
Steve was always nervous about speaking up. Knowing the boss wasn’t happy made him eve
n more so. He had to pause to clear his throat a few times. Unusually, he even opted for calling Jo ‘sir’, which he never did.
‘Sir, he came in and I spoke to him at length but I couldn’t get anything more than he’s already told us. He admits he’d already had a few drinks and that his memory was a bit fuzzy. He thought the man was about six foot, but he couldn’t be sure. The only thing new he said this time was that he thought he must have been going to or coming from a fancy dress party. But when I pressed him he couldn’t say what gave him that impression. Just that it was something he thought for a fleeting moment. Sorry, sir.’
‘The drag queen still with their slap on?’ Jezza suggested.
Martha shook her head. ‘I doubt anyone would call the one I spoke to tall. Not out of costume anyway. They’re nowhere near six foot, even with the heels that go with the frock. Although I can see they might look taller with the wig on and up on a stage. But I can’t imagine them choosing to walk the streets with those shoes on. They did tell me how uncomfortable they are to perform in and how glad they are to get them off as soon as they’re finished with a gig.’
Ted stood up from where he’d been perching, as no one seemed to have much else to offer.
‘Jo, I’ll come and find you in a minute. Virgil, Amelie, can I have a word with you both in my office, please?’
Ted led the way into the room and stood behind his chair. The other two followed him in, Virgil closing the door behind them, relieved that whatever the boss had in store, it didn’t involve his famous kick-trick.
The fact that Ted’s voice was even quieter than usual and that he didn’t invite them to sit down, nor do so himself, was a warning trigger to Virgil. One or other of them had clearly dropped a massive bollock. He couldn’t for the life of him imagine what it could be.
‘Could either of you please explain to me why Uniform officers have just found a bottle of nail polish in Mr Byrne’s possessions, when they were doing the inventory? The ones the two of you searched last week without, apparently, seeing it.’
Amelie replied immediately. Speaking quickly, her words tripping over each other in her eagerness.
‘I don’t remember seeing it in any of the bags I searched through, sir. And as you’ll remember, I was looking out for things with hard surfaces which might hold fingerprints. Remember I mentioned coffee mugs and drinking glasses, that sort of thing.’
‘Virgil?’
‘Boss, I honestly don’t remember seeing it either. I suppose it’s just possible that it was in a bag which we both somehow managed to overlook.’
Again, Amelie cut in quickly. ‘It can’t be that, though, Virgil. Remember, I suggested we start by putting all the bags on one side of the storage container and only moving them across to the other side when we’d finished searching them. And we emptied each bag out as we searched it.’
Ted looked from one to the other of them, then said again, ‘Virgil?’
Virgil spread his hands. ‘Boss, what can I say? If I’ve screwed up, I’m really sorry.’
‘DC Foster, can you leave us now, please?’
As soon as she’d gone out, closing the door behind her, Ted spoke again.
‘Right, what really happened? And don’t give me any more crap, please. I know you too well.’
‘I really don’t know for sure, boss. I did wonder if Amelie was short-sighted and should have had glasses on. I should have checked up on what she was doing though. Sorry, boss.’
Ted followed him out of the office then went to speak to Jo, to explain what had happened.
‘It’s one thing to make a mistake. It’s another entirely to drop a team-mate right in it to cover yourself. I’ll leave her with Eric for now. No doubt he can straighten her out a bit.’
‘Bloody nuisance, though, losing nearly a week on what’s clearly an important lead,’ Jo told him.
This time the tempo of the mop was faster. The gestures staccato. Instead of a dab in the centre of the circle at each side of the corridor, it was more like a stabbing movement. The prisoner was humming, but just the brass bridge at the end of the chorus. Louder than usual. His lips were clamped in a tight line which emphasised the anger in his face.
The chaplain was late. Much later than usual. Warren was not pleased. He wanted to talk to him. Needed to talk to him.
And soon one of the prison officers would be coming to find him if he lingered here too much longer, waiting for him.
It was not satisfactory at all.
He plunged the mop into the bucket with such vigour that water splashed everywhere. Now he’d have to redo the whole section to get it perfect. At least it gave him an excuse for taking longer than usual. He could exaggerate the spillage. Claim to have tipped the bucket over accidentally.
He stayed on the brass section but this time his humming had a note of triumph about it. He was back in control of the situation. And Warren liked to be in control. That’s why he found prison life so hard. Every moment of his waking day was controlled by someone else. He had no say in his own destiny.
It was killing him.
He needed a way out of there.
This time he made no pretence of being unaware of the chaplain’s presence. He paused in his work and looked him in the eye as he approached, his eyes boring into those of the cleric.
‘You’re late today, padre. I was getting concerned. There are things I need to speak to you about. You promise me your help, spiritually and on a more practical level. Yet your efforts don’t seem to be bringing me the results I need.
‘I’m wondering if I should, after all, ask to have that long talk with the governor.’
Chapter Fifteen
‘Some more forensic results in, which may or may not help us,’ Ted told the team at morning briefing. ‘It does give us another possible lead, which is going to mean a bit more legwork.’
After a riotous time the previous evening with Josie and Jock, Ted was thankful he’d stuck to his pledge never to touch alcohol again. He dreaded to think what Josie and Trev were feeling like this morning, the amount of wine they’d put away between them. He just hoped Trev managed to get himself up in time for work. One good thing was that somehow he seldom had to pay the price of the morning after the night before in the shape of a hangover.
Ted had enjoyed a few Gunners, watching the other two drink and dance the night away. Jock had been driving and had stuck to one bottle of lager which he’d made to last all evening. He’d told Ted out in Spain that Josie was not only his work colleague and boss but also the widow of a good friend of his. Which is why he was her self-appointed minder. Especially when she decided to let her hair down, as she certainly did in Trev’s company, once more. The cats were banished to the kitchen again while the two of them reprised their dance routine from Spain in the confines of the compact living room.
‘Firstly, we now know that the DNA from the cigarette found at the first arson site isn’t a match for anything held on file. So it won’t lead us to our arsonist. But once we have some suspects, it will make it easier to identify the correct one,’ Ted went on.
‘Secondly, we’ve got the preliminary report on the nail varnish from the toes of our victim, Mr Byrne. Not hugely helpful, I’m afraid. It’s a cheap and cheerful brand, readily available in all sorts of shops, and the colour’s been around for years. It’s called Racy Rouge. It’s not changed much since it was first introduced. The lab were able to state that this sample appears to be from an older batch because of some very minor changes in its composition since it was first introduced more than ten years ago.
‘Now, because of an unfortunate procedural error,’ Ted was careful not to look at anyone in particular as he said it, ‘an old bottle of what appears to be the same varnish, in one of the bags of Mr Byrne’s possessions in storage, was not discovered until this week and has only just gone off for cross-matching against the sample from the limb.’
Jezza opened her mouth to speak but Ted carried on, ‘The reasons for the error are not
up for public debate. It happened. It’s been dealt with. We’re moving on.’
Virgil had been stony-faced and unusually quiet since he’d arrived and appeared to be blanking Amelie. From Rob O’Connell’s body language, it was clear that he also knew what had gone on. It made sense. He and Virgil were close friends both at work and in their social lives.
Ted didn’t want any more time wasted on the incident. He certainly didn’t want bad feelings between any of the team members to interfere with the case. He handed over to Jo to carry on.
‘Mike, you and Jezza can start by talking to people where Byrne was working when he disappeared. See what you can find out about him there. His social life, who he mixed with, if anyone. Anything at all you can come up with.’
‘It’s going to be a doddle to drop into the conversation; questions about him painting his toenails,’ Jezza put in, with her customary note of irony. ‘I can’t somehow see that being the sort of thing he’d talk about to his workmates.’
‘I’m sure that was simply a facetious remark, Jezza,’ Ted told her, ‘but just in case, let me point out two things. One, we don’t know if he painted his own nails or if that was done to him either pre- or post-mortem. And two, I’d prefer that information not to leak out into the public domain yet.
‘Jo, I’m sure you were about to come on to it but we could profitably spend a few moments looking for motives in both cases, and from there to people who might have those motives.’
‘Ahead of me as usual, boss,’ Jo smiled. ‘Mike, did you ever get anywhere with the owner of the first arson building?’
‘Nothing to give us a solid motive. Poor bloke is gutted as he was hoping to sell the place. It’s been on the market for ages but no takers. And his insurers are being awkward. Saying it wasn’t properly secured so they’re not going to pay out the full amount, if anything at all.’
‘And I don’t suppose, to make our job easier, the same bloke owns the second premises, too?’
‘Steve’s been on that one. Steve?’
Steve was clearly still a bit rattled by the atmosphere. He presented his findings, sounding anxious.