by Ted Tayler
“I agree, guv,” said Neil, “what is it you always tell us? We want witnesses to tell us something they hadn’t remembered before or suspects to tell us something they didn’t intend for us to learn.”
“We’ll run with it then, Neil. Same team as yesterday. You and I will stick with the Mallinder clan. Alex will accompany me tomorrow morning when we visit Maggie Monk. Once we’ve got those details from her, we’ll split the list between us. We need to pick up the pace now.”
“Is there something specific, Lydia and I can tackle today, guv?” asked Alex.
“Find out where Ian Hewson is,” said Gus, “search for him in Bradley Stoke. Then dig into the three Mallinder men’s history. Sam Mallinder used an odd phrase yesterday. He said Tyrone and Gary ‘stood their ground’ in Bedminster when they were teenagers. Sam looks as if he could handle himself when he was younger. Check social media for the sons. See if you can find links to the football club up the road from where they lived. Football hooligans come in all shapes and sizes, and they don’t always grow out of it. If the boys follow in their father’s footsteps, they’ll be feisty and argumentative. Sam and Tyrone weren’t in Swindon that night, but Tyrone and Gary knew about Laura’s job. We can’t discount their involvement.”
“I added a comment to my notes, guv,” said Neil, “after Sam had confirmed what we knew about their whereabouts on Sunday evening. I asked him where Gary was. He tried to hide something from us, do you agree?”
“Let me read that piece again,” said Gus. He checked the Freeman File. “You’re suggesting that phrase suggested a strained relationship, is that it?”
“It was the way he hurriedly added we should check with Tyrone. Even though we were only getting him to confirm what he told Theo Hickerton and his team seven years ago. Maybe he wanted to hide the fact that perhaps Gary’s alibi wasn’t as watertight as theirs.”
“It’s a worry that the solid alibis this family had according to Hickerton and Latimer are falling apart like a house of cards,” said Gus. “What else did they skim over in the original investigation? We need to see Tyrone and Gary in separate areas of the bar. Work on the other items I asked for this morning, then four of us will head for Brislington. We’ll leave at a quarter-past eleven.”
“Clever, guv,” said Neil, “the brothers will have had time to get the drinks in and order their food. We won’t be upsetting Geoff Mercer with a huge expenses claim.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Neil,” grinned Gus, “anyway, we’re on soft drinks as we’re on duty. There will be a wide selection of crisps and nuts, I’m sure.”
Gus tried not to smile as he heard a collective groan.
CHAPTER 8
The drive to Brislington took just under an hour. They took Neil’s car because it had more legroom than any of the others. Alex sat in the front with his crutches. Gus and Lydia sat in the back.
“I don’t imagine we’ll be making a habit of this, will we, guv,” asked Neil, “only in six months from now I’ll have a baby seat where you’re sitting.”
Gus thought back to what the new Chief Constable had told him.
“Six months is a long time, Neil. This team could be history by then.”
“I hope not,” said Lydia, “you lot are family. I’d miss you.”
“That must be their van,” said Alex as they drew into the King’s Arms car park. A battered white van with ladders on the roof was one row in front. Alex could see Mallinder - General Builders stencilled on the side and rear doors; together with a mobile phone number.
“I can see how you got to make detective, Alex,” said Neil as they walked to the main entrance.
Lydia trotted ahead to hold the door open for Alex. Neil followed the couple inside. Gus brought up the rear. The bar area was functional, and there were only a handful of customers. It wasn’t difficult to identify the Mallinder brothers. They had the same tall, angular appearance of their father but twenty-five years younger and more muscular.
Tyrone, the elder brother, was now forty-one according to the murder file. Gary two years younger. Gus imagined the gap between Gary and Laura being a significant factor in the way the brothers treated her. She would have been their little sister.
There were differences in appearance between the boys and their father. Both had shaved heads and tattoos on their arms and upper bodies. The wife-beater vests they wore reinforced Gus’s opinion they were dealing with two hard nuts. There would be no intellectual sparring in any conversation they had with the police. It would be brief and to the point. If matters deteriorated, he and Neil would have their hands full. Alex wasn’t fit enough to tackle one of these two yet. If he ever had been. Time to tread softly.
Gary gave his brother the nod that the Crime Review Team was in town.
“Hope this won’t take long,” said Tyrone, turning towards them.
He had a pint of lager in his hand; with one good swallow, he’d be ready for his second. Gus looked at the bar clock. If Tyrone had a dry neck after grafting on that conservatory, he might already have started on his second pint.
“It will take as long as I say it will,” said Gus, forgetting he’d decided to tread softly, “my name is Freeman, and this is my Crime Review Team. DS Hardy and DS Davis will chat to your brother, Gary. It’s a sunny morning. I suggest you take your drinks outside to the beer garden. You won’t disturb anyone. We’ll find a corner for our conversation, Tyrone. My colleague, Ms Logan Barre, will join us once she’s bought our drinks.”
Gus had asked what everyone wanted to drink as they sped along the Keynsham bypass. Lydia went to the bar with the crumpled twenty-pound note Gus had given her. Alex and Neil steered Gary Mallinder towards the door. Tyrone and Gus were left facing one another by the bar.
“Do you still follow the City,” asked Gus.
“I thought you wanted to talk about Laura?” replied Tyrone; strolling over to a comfortable leather-covered bench. Gus sat in a chair facing him; he said nothing.
“We go to every Home game. Can’t take time off to travel to Away matches these days.”
“What did you make of Ian Hewson?”
“What, the lad our Laura went out with for a while? Ian was quick and skilful, but he had a temper on him.”
“I meant more as a person, not a footballer.”
“Ian Hewson wasn’t right for Laura. He was too controlling.”
“Your Dad proved very helpful yesterday. He confirmed where you were in the afternoon and evening on the day Laura died. He suggested I ask Gary where he was. Sam didn’t seem to know. Do you know, Tyrone?”
Tyrone took that last swig of his pint of lager. He was ready for another; Gus didn’t move.
“Gary told the police where he was. You’ll have that recorded somewhere. Your blokes in the beer garden will ask him that question. Why don’t you ask them when they come indoors?”
“I asked you, Tyrone,” said Gus. Lydia returned with their soft drinks. Gus pocketed the change.
“Gary was where he always is on a Sunday. Sat in a pub, listening to music, earwigging other people’s conversations and getting pissed. It’s what he does.”
“When did you last see Laura alive?” asked Gus.
“At our old home in Bedminster Down. Emma and I hadn’t long got engaged. We dropped in on Mum and Dad. No, I tell a lie. I caught sight of her in Kingswood after that. Laura was getting off the bus from Bath; she lived in a new one-bedroomed flat just up the road. That’s where she moved to after she left home the second time.”
“You didn’t visit her in Swindon?”
“No way. I work sixty hours a week minimum with Gary. Emma and I make the most of our weekends. Laura didn’t put herself out to see any of us, so we let her get on with it.”
“How did you feel when your Mum told you Laura’s occupation?”
“Sick.”
“Emma was accommodating yesterday too. She said you and Gary were very protective of your little sister, and you never argued. It seems odd
then that you didn’t drive the short distance to Swindon. To see if you could help Laura see the error of her ways. You and Gary have done something similar in the past. Sam asked you to have a word with Ian Hewson, didn’t he? Why didn’t you have a word with whoever was employing your sister?”
“You don’t understand,” sighed Tyrone, “Mum kept pressing Laura for details of where she worked. She couldn’t fathom why Laura didn’t visit them at weekends. Laura always maintained that she worked in a solicitor’s office. Then one day Laura snapped at Mum. Alright, she said, I work in a massage parlour. I make twice as much as I would in any old office. Mum was devastated; she thought Laura was selling herself. Her daughter was a whore. Laura explained it wasn’t like that. She gave a proper massage but with extras. They never had sex with the clients. That was bad enough for Mum, and me and Gary when she told us.”
“Mum told you soon after and persuaded you to keep the matter secret from your father, is that right?”
“Yeah, if Gary and I had gone to Swindon to sort out the owner and bring Laura home, how would we have explained it to Dad? Laura couldn’t have carried on living in that house she bought. Once she was back living under their roof, it would have come out. Dad would have lost his rag. You know how he is. You’re right; he sent us to thump Hewson. That was for stalking her. Imagine what he would want us to do to whoever persuaded Laura to work in one of those places?”
“Did you ever find out who owned the parlours?” asked Gus.
“The less I knew about what she did, the better,” said Tyrone. “I stayed away from Swindon until we had to deal with the solicitor and settled Laura’s estate. Emma and I visited the house, but we never went near where she worked. We heard it had closed by then.”
Gus was inclined to believe him.
“Emma helped you through that sad time, didn’t she?” asked Lydia.
Tyrone nodded.
“She’s been a rock. Emma took control. Dad was useless. He couldn’t handle the knowledge of what Laura had been doing and how she died. Then, when he was on his knees, Mum’s diagnosis crushed what spirit he had left. Emma cared for her through her final months. It was hard for everyone, but Emma got us through it.”
“How did Gary handle things?” asked Gus.
“Gary did what he always did. Never mentioned it, got stuck into his work and drank.”
The door to the beer garden opened, and Gary returned to the bar. Alex and Neil followed him in.
“Can we get back to work now?” asked Gary, “have you finished harassing my brother?”
“We’ve established a better understanding of the case after chatting with Tyrone,” said Gus. “It remains to be seen whether you were as forthcoming as the other three members of your family. We welcomed their cooperation. If you wish to get back to work, please do. Just remember that until we close this case, it’s always possible we’ll return with further questions. Please make yourselves available without us having to chase you when the time comes.”
Tyrone and Gary Mallinder didn’t hang around. The team heard the racket their van made as it left the car park. Another police department could deal with the dodgy exhaust.
“What did you learn?” asked Gus.
“Sam is an overbearing father. Laura was his princess. He had put her on a pedestal, didn’t believe she could do any wrong. We asked Gary where he was that day. He told the same story, word for word, as he did to Jake Latimer. A pub in Bedminster for two hours as soon as they opened at noon. He returned home until five o’clock, then he visited a large number of pubs, arriving home in the early hours. Latimer visited each one Gary could remember, and someone confirmed they had seen him in there that night.”
“Latimer assumed because there was never a long enough gap between sightings for Gary to drive to Swindon and back that he couldn’t have committed the murder,” said Gus.
“Tyrone described Gary’s typical Sunday routine to us,” said Lydia. “What’s to say the bar staff Jake Latimer interviewed just assumed he was there as usual that Sunday night?”
“What else did you ask him?” asked Gus.
“The things we agreed, guv,” said Neil, “about the City, Ian Hewson, and where Tyrone and his father were on that Sunday.”
“Anything?”
“He clammed up about the football,” said Alex. “I don’t believe Gary goes for the match as much he does for the chance of a fight. As for Hewson, those two got on better than we thought. Tyrone carried out the punishment beating. Gary said he didn’t agree with his father but went along because it was less hassle. His Dad has a temper. Sam expects the boys to do what he tells them.
“Sam and Tyrone were at the theatre in the afternoon and a club at night,” added Neil, “Gary never saw them that day.”
“When was the last time he saw Laura alive?”
“He couldn’t be sure, but at least two years, maybe three,” said Alex.
“Did Gary ever visit Swindon?”
“He says not,” said Alex. “They’ve done no building work that far from Bristol. As for socialising, Gary said Swindon was off-limits.”
“That will result from the football hooliganism,” said Neil. “The derby matches between City and Swindon are mental. They might travel with a gang and look for trouble outside the stadium, but if a lone Mallinder got spotted in Old Town, the word would spread. Gary would be in for a right kicking. Those fans have long memories.”
“What was Gary’s reaction to Laura’s secret?”
“The same as his father. It disgusted him,” said Neil.
“Let’s head back to the office now,” said Gus, “we’ll update the Freeman Files and carry on the search for Ian Hewson.”
As they travelled through the outskirts of Bath, Gus remembered something.
“Did any of those derby matches take place between the time Laura moved to Swindon and her death?”
“I wish I still had my Rothmans Football Year Books, guv,” said Neil. “They’re a great reference for trawling through to dredge up memories of long-forgotten matches, players and statistics.”
“We’ll take your word for it, Neil,” said Gus, “just google it.”
“I went to school with a football trivia fanatic,” said Alex, “he studied those things for hours. You could ask him for team colours, home ground, highest attendance, trophies, highest transfer. Any detail for either of the ninety-two League clubs. He was rarely wrong.”
“How boring,” said Lydia.
“You’re Scottish,” said Neil, “what do you know? You’ve only got Celtic and Rangers. Everyone else makes up the numbers.”
“What did he do when he left school?” asked Lydia.
“Formed his own IT company,” said Alex.
“I was right. Your school friend was boring.”
“He sold it for seventy million in 2007.”
“Now he’s just bloody annoying,” said Lydia.
“Found it, guv,” said Alex, “I did as you suggested and looked it up on my phone. City and Swindon didn’t face one another in League or Cup for a few seasons around that time. If Gary travelled with Bristol Rovers to Swindon in March 2010, he might have bumped into his sister.”
“It’s not usual for fans as committed as the Mallinder family to switch their allegiance,” said Neil.
“Perhaps, he drove to Swindon with a mate,” said Gus.
That germ of an idea started to grow.
Thursday, 3rd May 2018
The week was slipping away from them. It felt as if he’d made progress, but it was mighty slow. Gus drove to work with a dark cloud over the Ford Focus. He hadn’t heard from London Road for a few days. When would Geoff Mercer call for an update? Would Sandra Plunkett be waiting to pounce the second he reached the first-floor landing?
Neil was in the office when he stepped from the lift.
“This is early, even for you, Neil. Everything okay?”
“Melody was restless last night. Then she was up early with the sickness, y
ou know.”
“No, I don’t. Tess and I never wanted kids. She had thousands pass through her life at school or college. I had children to handle in the office every day. I reported to several of them.”
Neil laughed out loud. Some of last night’s tension was released. The lift doors opened; Alex and Lydia had arrived. They wondered what they had missed.
“Before Alex and I head back to Castle Combe, is there anything you thought of last night to add to what we learned yesterday?” asked Gus.
Lydia thought it typical that Gus believed they thought of nothing other than the case in their leisure time. The case became all-consuming. She realised that something had been niggling her as she drove in this morning.
“Our meetings with the four members of the Mallinder family gave us more negatives than positives, didn’t they guv?” she asked.
“Explain,” said Gus.
“Well, three alibis haven’t been weakened one bit. Sam, Tyrone and Emma could not have been in Swindon. Therefore, they weren’t involved in Laura’s death. Gary’s alibi isn’t watertight. He may not have visited every bar DS Latimer checked. Gary went there so often the staff may have got the day wrong. There might have been time to allow him to drive to Swindon.”
“How did he know where to go?” said Gus. “Tyrone was adamant they had been nowhere in Swindon, let alone near the massage parlour. He wasn’t even aware Maggie Monk was the owner. He told us Sam would have ordered him and Gary to sort the owner out if Laura’s secret had come out. Tyrone naturally assumed it was a man. I’m not sure Gary’s our killer. One or two of the bar staff could have suffered from brain fade when DS Latimer talked to them. They couldn’t all make a mistake on the timing. The gap between the murder and the verification of the witness statements was a matter of days, not months.”
“The timeline is very tight, guv,” added Neil. “Gary reckoned he left home at five in the afternoon and was out on the lash for around eight hours. Laura got attacked at around a quarter to nine. Bristol to Swindon on a Sunday night? Forty-five minutes on the M4. Thirty-five minutes if he pushed it. Let’s assume he lied and stayed off the drink and had a meal before he left Bristol at eight o’clock to murder his sister. The attack lasted no more than fifteen minutes. If he drove back straightaway, he could have been in one of his regular haunts before a quarter to ten. That’s at least one hundred minutes where Gary had to be missing, and nobody noticed. It’s tight, but just possible he made that trip. I don’t think we can rule him out yet.”