Letter From The Dead - a crime thriller (Detective Inspector Declan Walsh Book 1)

by Jack Gatland

  ‘So rather Michael did the time?’

  ‘He was no angel, believe me; but you’re right.’ Shaun looked to the floor, and Declan could see the shame in his expression. ‘Over the years she’d come to me, usually on Susan’s request. She’d ask me to vote on things. And I did so. Until I lost my seat.’

  Declan sat back down and wrote this down in his notebook, using the time to think. Andy Mac had mentioned the same thing.

  Had all three MPs been given the same story? Had they all voted for Susan, believing that they were the murderer, with their blood on a necklace?

  ‘Tell me about Sarah Hinksman,’ he continued. Shaun looked surprised at this.

  ‘Sarah?’ he asked. What about her?’

  ‘The night of her death,’ Declan continued. ‘She turned up looking for you at the conference, and you asked Andy Mac to keep her busy.’ He stopped as Shaun sat back down and started to cough. Or cry. Long wheezing huffs that Declan slowly realised was actually Shaun laughing.

  ‘You think she came to see me?’ he said. ‘God no! She called me at the hotel the night before, told me to take my wife and ensure I wasn’t around because she was turning up to settle a score!’

  ‘She wasn’t coming to out you as the father of her baby?’

  Shaun shrugged. ‘I don’t know what she was doing, as she never got to say what she wanted to. And then she had the accident.’ He stopped, his face sobering up.

  ‘You don’t think it was an accident.’

  ‘Who was she coming to see, Shaun?’ Declan asked. ‘That night. Who was it she wanted to out?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Were you the father?’

  ‘I don’t know. And God help me, I never wanted to know.’

  Declan picked up his phone, opening an email that Billy had sent fifteen minutes earlier. The photo attached showed an image of Charles and Sarah laughing in 1997. He turned the phone around and showed it to Shaun.

  ‘Was it Charles, Shaun?’ he asked. ‘Was she about to destroy Charles Baker’s career and not yours?’

  Shaun examined the photo. ‘You should take a look at the original,’ he said. ‘There’s more to see—'

  Shaun stopped as there was a banging on the front door.

  ‘They’ve found me!’ he hissed, jumping to his feet, the screwdriver out again. ‘You set me up you son of a bitch! I’ll kill you for this!’

  Ignoring the insult while keeping an eye on Shaun, Declan rose up, walking over to the door.

  ‘Calm down, it’s my boss,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry Shaun, but when you passed out I called him, told him what happened. He said he’d bring a couple of uniforms up.’

  ‘You traitor!’ Shaun’s hands were clenching and unclenching as he stood, gripping his makeshift weapon, standing like a feral creature in a cage.

  ‘You confessed on my doorstep!’ Declan replied as the door banged again. ‘Of course I was going to call Monroe.’

  ‘Detective Sergeant Alex Monroe?’

  ‘DCI now, but yeah,’ Declan paused. ‘Why?’

  The door banged harder, the wood visibly shaking. Declan walked to it, opening it—

  To find a trio of red laser points on his chest.

  There was a man in a suit standing on the step; overweight, but with overpowering odour of ‘don’t mess with me’. In the background, at the gate to the house were three more suited men, and a familiar van at the driveway.

  An SCO 19 armed police unit.

  ‘Declan Walsh?’ the man said, showing his warrant card. ‘I’m DCI Sutcliffe and you have my suspect inside your house. I’d like him back. Now.’

  ‘Or what?’ Declan asked.

  ‘Or else I’ll have you shot, and take him out myself.’

  22

  Stand Off

  Declan looked down at the lasers aimed at his chest.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said. ‘I don’t have anyone in my house. I’m just clearing out my father’s old things.’

  ‘Then you won’t mind me coming in and having a look?’ Sutcliffe said, trying to peer past Declan and into the house.

  ‘Of course not,’ Declan smiled. ‘We’re all police here. Just show me the warrant.’

  Sutcliffe hissed in frustration at this. Declan stood his ground. Looking at the men at the gate, he paused on one of them.

  ‘Tell you what DCI Sutcliffe, why don’t you get your man over there to come ask me?’ he said. ‘The one with the rimless glasses? I’m sure we have a lot to chat about.’

  Sutcliffe sighed. ‘Don’t make this harder than it is,’ he said.

  ‘It’s not hard at all,’ Declan replied. ‘It’s incredibly simple, actually. You go tell whoever sent you that I don’t respond well to bullying. No warrant? No entry. And you can tell the SCO 19 guys that I’m not intimidated by the lasers. This isn’t the first time I’ve faced off a possibly corrupt DCI with guns aimed at me. Christ, it isn’t even the first time this month.’

  And with that Declan slammed the door in Sutcliffe’s face, locking it quickly.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Shaun asked, standing at the window, looking out at the policemen. Once again, he seemed calm. This surprised Declan, because currently Declan’s body was filled with adrenaline. Declan quickly pulled him to the side, against the wall.

  ‘Buying us time,’ He said. ‘There’s something really wrong with those coppers. For a start the prick that attacked me last night’s hanging out with them.’

  He walked across the room, away from Shaun.

  ‘Keep out of the line of sight for the moment,’ he suggested. ‘Sit back down. They won’t storm in until they can find a way of proving it was required. All we have to do is wait for backup and hope it comes first.’

  Shaun sat down reluctantly.

  ‘You said ‘they’ve found me’ when they banged on the door,’ Declan said. ‘Who’s they?’

  ‘Francine,’ Shaun said, ‘she found me earlier today. I know they don’t want me to speak to anyone, and they didn’t want you distracted from the direction they wanted you going.’

  That was interesting. Someone was guiding the investigation. But who?

  ‘Let’s carry on speaking then,’ Declan pulled out the notebook, ‘unless you have something better to do?’

  Shaun shrugged, staring at the door. ‘I could really do with a drink.’

  ‘Drink later. Talk first. Now, why did you come and see my Dad five years back?’

  ‘Because of the book,’ Shaun said. ‘Michael’s one. Your father would have been in it. Michael reckoned he had proof that the detectives on the case had been bought off.’

  ‘My Dad wasn’t corrupt,’ Declan snapped, but at the same time there was a small doubt niggling in the back of his mind. A couple of weeks earlier he’d had a run in with Johnny Lucas, one of the criminal ‘twins’ of East London while working the Mile End case, and it had come out that he was chummy with Patrick Walsh in the nineties.

  Hell, the twins had their own chapter in Patrick’s memoirs.

  ‘I didn’t say your father,’ Shaun said, bringing Declan back to the present. ‘I said detectives. Plural.’

  ‘We’ll come back to that,’ Declan said, also watching the door now. It’d gone silent outside. That was never a good sign. ‘Let’s go back to Francine Pearce and the bill you were asked to put through, back when you were shown the necklace. Did it pass?’

  ‘Yes, by two votes.’

  ‘All three of you voted for it.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  Declan steepled his fingers as he considered this. ‘All of you lost your memories that night. Michael Lucas is accused of murder and convicted. A few months later Susan is made CEO, and Francine Pearce effectively blackmails you into doing what she said, in fear you’ll be exposed as the murderer.’ He smiled. ‘And I bet you weren’t the only one she spoke to. Andy Mac mentioned similar, but I didn’t realise it at the time.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’
Shaun flinched as the sounds of shouting rose outside, his agitation starting to return, the screwdriver still in his hand. Declan walked over to the window, looking out.

  ‘I think that all three of you were told by Francine, individually, that you were the killer. She stopped you telling each other, and kept you working for her.’ He thought for a moment, watching through the glass.

  ‘You were telling me about Michael,’ he said. ‘Why he called you to visit him.’

  ‘This is stupid. We should be getting out of here.’ The irritation was rising dangerously high in Shaun’s voice.

  ‘We’ll get out of here, but not the way you’re thinking. Talk.’

  ‘Fine. He told me that before the murder, he’d been stockpiling data, files on everything and everyone. I think it was so he had leverage if Vicky divorced him. He said he had proof she’d done something bad at a Labour Conference. I think it was to do with drugs.’

  ‘Did she take drugs?’

  ‘It was the late nineties. Everyone took drugs. Vicky was a multi-tasker. She’d take something to get high, and bring herself down with a downer.’

  ‘Something like ketamine?’

  Shaun thought for a moment ‘Possibly,’ he said. ‘I never saw her do it, but I know people who had. When she hung around with Andy, before I was around, I know he did K back then. And Michael had it all written down. He’d expected a monster pay-out if they divorced.’

  ‘That makes sense. Victoria was the one with money in that relationship. What did he do with the files?’

  ‘Nobody knows. He said he had them in a security box. Paid for lifetime service and would remove them when he got out. He was expecting a resolution in the next couple of weeks.’

  ‘Because of his cancer?’

  ‘Yeah. It might not have been terminal, but it was still there. He expected to be out within days. And then a week later he died.’

  Declan nodded as he considered this.

  ‘You spent time with Victoria at Devington House?’ he asked. Shaun’s face darkened.

  ‘My private life is nothing—’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Shaun!’ Declan snapped, his patience finally run thing. ‘I’m trying to save your life here and find a killer! I couldn’t give a damn about your sordid little past!’

  Shaun stared in shock at Declan, the anger seemingly surprised out of him.

  ‘I spent time there.’ he admitted.

  ‘How did you keep it from Michael?’

  ‘We’d use secret passages.’

  ‘Priest holes.’

  ‘That’s what Vicky called them.’

  There were the sounds of approaching sirens as Declan carried on staring out of the window as he spoke. ‘The passages take you outside?’

  ‘One did. What relevance does this have to the murder?’

  ‘Working on that part. Did you know Sebastian Payne?’

  ‘Who?’ Shaun’s response was honest. Declan decided to skip past that. Time was running out.

  ‘Why did you stab the homeless man?’

  ‘He threatened to out me. I couldn’t risk it.’ Again, Shaun’s anger turned to guilt, as if two distinct souls were fighting in one body. ‘I didn’t mean to stab him so hard.’ He walked to the shelf, picking a photo of Declan up, in the red cap of the Military Police.

  ‘You were a soldier?’

  ‘Military Police.’

  ‘No wonder you weren’t scared of SCO 19.’

  ‘Not the first time I’ve had guns aimed at me,’ Declan replied.

  ‘I was in the Territorials,’ Shaun said. ‘Briefly, anyway. We never fired weapons, we had these things called blank fire adaptors attached.’

  ‘A man with a BFA weapon is still scary if you don’t know it’s attached,’ Declan said. ‘to the average person, a gun is a gun.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Shaun put the photo back on the shelf as Declan nodded, walking to the door. The sirens had stopped now, and raised voices could be heard outside.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Shaun rose, terrified.

  ‘Did you trust my Dad?’ Declan asked as the door was hammered on once more.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then trust me.’ Declan opened the door to reveal Monroe standing there.

  ‘Cavalry’s arrived, son,’ the older man said, looking into the house. ‘Hey, it’s Shaun Donnal. Long-time no see. Put the screwdriver down, laddie. We’re here to help.’

  Declan looked past Monroe to see a standoff on his front garden. Billy, Anjli and half a dozen uniformed officers barred the way for DCI Sutcliffe. Declan also noted that the man with the rimless glasses had disappeared.

  ‘He has a suspect of mine in there!’ Sutcliffe shouted. ‘I demand you hand him over!’

  Monroe looked back to Sutcliffe.

  ‘Name?’

  ‘DCI Sutcliffe!’

  ‘Well I’m DCI Monroe, and by the looks of you I’d say I’m probably the one with seniority in years here,’ Monroe smiled. ‘and therefore I don’t see your suspect in there, I see my suspect. Shaun Donnal, grievous bodily assault in Soho. You can have him, but only when I’m done with him. Until then, take your overcompensation and your guns and sod off out of this sleepy little village.’

  Sutcliffe looked around, and Declan could almost see the thought processes running through his head.

  ‘I want him after you’re done with him,’ he hissed, nodding to his men. As one they left, leaving only Monroe’s team on the grass.

  ‘There was another here,’ Declan said. ‘The one that jumped me last night.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ Monroe replied. ‘Just as much as when I search for our DCI Sutcliffe later, we’ll likely find that he doesn’t exist.’ Standing in the doorway he looked to Shaun, then back to Declan.

  ‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he said softly. ‘but before that I think we should get Mister Donnal here somewhere safe and in a secure location under a fake name. he seems to be rather popular tonight.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Declan said. ‘I’ve got what I came here for. Donnal was an extra bonus.’

  ‘More of your father’s ties?’ Monroe smiled. Declan pointed back to the coffee table.

  ‘His files from the Davies case,’ he said. ‘Thought they might help.’

  ‘Don’t know what difference they’ll be to the ones we have, but anything will help,’ Monroe replied. ‘Let’s get back and reconvene tomorrow. I don’t think any of this is going to change by then. And by then Doctor Marcos should have some news for us.’

  As the police came in and handcuffed Shaun, taking his screwdriver as evidence in the process, Declan nodded to him. He’d ensure that Shaun was placed somewhere safe, and that his anger management problems didn’t cause any more issues.

  ‘Walsh, can I say something?’ Shaun seemed furtive. Waving the police away, Declan leaned in.

  ‘They weren’t real police,’ Shaun said. ‘Or at least some of them weren’t.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Declan asked.

  ‘There were three men by the gate when I looked out of the window. All three of them were chasing me earlier. The one with the glasses had this baton thing he hit me with.’

  A cold chill went down Declan’s spine.

  ‘Rimless glasses?’

  ‘You saw him?’

  ‘We’ve met,’ Declan nodded. ‘Who do they work for?’

  ‘Pearce Associates,’ Shaun replied as the police, watching for Declan’s nod returned and started to escort Shaun to a waiting vehicle. ‘Look at the photo! Look for her!’

  Declan stared after him, deep in thought. It was Anjli who brought him back.

  ‘Nice place,’ she said. ‘Hope you’re not thinking of selling it, as it’s gonna be a bastard to get a good listing now we’ve made such a racket here.’

  Declan laughed. ‘I’m starting to think we’ve been looking at the wrong suspects,’ he said. ‘I think we need to get Francine Pearce in as soon as possible.’

  ‘We’ve
tried,’ Billy said as he stood by the coffee table, already rifling through Patrick’s notes. ‘Her solicitor already called, saying that she’d heard we were reopening the case, and that based on our investigation so far she’s already said everything she needs to.’

  ‘And how does she know how our investigation’s going?’ Declan asked, taking the file from Billy. ‘You can play with this after dinner. First I need you to find out something for me.’

  ‘What?’

  On his phone, Declan showed Billy the image of Charles and Sarah; the one that Billy had sent almost an hour earlier. ‘I need you to take a real good look at the original of this,’ he said. ‘Shaun seemed convinced that there was something more to it. And then I need you to get Doctor Marcos to compare Sebastian Payne’s DNA with the trace she gathered from that coffee cup.’

  ‘The cup?’

  ‘Yes,’ Declan nodded. ‘You see, I’m starting to think that Charles Baker was Sebastian’s real father.’

  23

  Fake News

  It took a couple of hours for Shaun to be signed in at an undisclosed location in North London, Declan himself signing the paperwork to ensure as minimal exposure between the police and Shaun as he could. As far as anyone was concerned, Shaun was some drunken homeless bum named Dave that needed to sleep off the night, and Declan would be back in the morning to pick him up.

  That done, Declan returned to his father’s – no, goddammit, his house to finish reading through the notes he’d found earlier. He’d stopped off at his apartment and brought a holdall with a change of clothes and a toothbrush this time, purely to ensure that he wouldn’t be caught out again and, following the visit by Shaun, he decided to swear off the alcohol as well. Which was probably for the best, as the notes that he read through were dull and uninspiring.

  He couldn’t place what was wrong with them; they just didn’t feel like an investigation, it was if they were just going through the motions. It felt like his father had already made his decision on who was guilty and was simply ticking the boxes to look good.