‘Kay was with me.’
‘Did she stay the night?’
Dammers looked at his solicitor, who nodded.
‘Yes, she did.’
‘And she would be willing to make a statement to that effect?’
‘You’d have to ask her yourself,’ said Dammers.
Tyler wrapped up the interview amid threats of a serious complaint.
Along the corridor, he leaned with his back against the wall. Mills said, ‘Did I miss something in there, sir, or are things as bad as they look?’
‘I thought the musical chairs went a treat. So, it hasn’t been a complete washout.’
The two officers looked at each other before breaking into grins.
‘So, what now, sir?’
‘We check out Kay Shields, but I’ll guarantee her alibi’s as rock solid as Hillman’s. You get the picture, don’t you?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Go on then. Let’s see if it makes any more sense coming out of your head than it does running around in mine.’
Mills took a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘Well, I think it’s like this: Dammers met with Marley but couldn’t be sure how trustworthy Marley was. He may have met with Jenkins too. Hillman also meets with Marley and possibly with Jenkins. He decides Marley’s okay, but can’t trust Jenkins. The hits had been provisionally arranged, but two would look too suspicious, and so he took a chance on Marley but couldn’t risk Jenkins. Both Hillman and Dammers already have their alibis set up corresponding with the provisional hit.’
Tyler thought for a moment. ‘Any money that Kay Shields is a wet-behind-the-ears type eager to impress her supervisor with some serious overtime, not to mention– no, I don’t need to go there. Dammers would have set her up neatly, I’m sure of that. Hillman has his own alibi. It stinks of contrivance, of course.’
‘Do you think Hillman arranged the hit?’
‘He could have farmed it out. Paul Dammers, by my reckoning, would have the contacts. But I bet it comes down to Hillman’s money. Depends on how far you take the idea of not getting your hands dirty.’
Brown came over with the message that Berkins’ car had arrived outside.
‘It’s now or never time again,’ said Tyler. ‘Everything we have adds up to nothing. I don’t know about you, but personally I would rather be hanged for a sheep than a rat.’
With a look of confused foreboding, Mills followed the DCI back towards the interview rooms.
Hillman’s brief made a lot of noises about complaints, and when he’d finished Tyler started in with another terse evocation of a June late-afternoon thirty years ago.
‘Do you recall that afternoon, Mr Hillman?’
Hillman sighed, heavily and with obvious theatricality. ‘As I might already have mentioned, I occasionally went down to the park. I did so on the occasions that you have specified. The weather was very pleasant.’
‘Were you involved in beating Alan Dale?’
‘I was not.’
‘Paul Dammers, Phillip Swanson, Douglas Marley – you remember them, Mr Hillman?’
‘Vaguely. Two of them were in my class at school. I kept myself to myself in those days, and I certainly did not spend my free time tormenting the likes of Alan Dale.’
‘I have been speaking to Paul Dammers and Phillip Swanson this evening, Mr Hillman. They both say that you were there on the afternoon in question.’
‘I was. On both occasions, I’ve already told you that.’
‘Earlier you said that there was something going on and that you were ‘naturally inquisitive’. You never actually stated what that was.’
‘There was a game in the park, as I recall.’
‘And that would have interested you?’
‘Perhaps it was the good weather. The approach of the school holidays, maybe. I remember being in a buoyant mood. I think the game was cancelled and re-arranged on the later evening.’
‘Mr Dammers and Mr Swanson recall that you were with the Dale boy, taking him down The Stumps.’
‘Then they have obviously been mistaken.’
‘How could that be?’
‘The passage of time, perhaps? How should I know?’
‘Douglas Marley also remembers you being present.’
‘Then he’s mistaken, too.’
Tyler paused for a moment. Hillman appeared to be on confident form as usual. It was time to see how solid that wall of confidence was.
‘DS Mills spoke to you at your home – about being punished by Mr Wise, along with Steven Jenkins, for an incident at school involving Alan Dale.’
Hillman said, ‘I have already stated that I was never punished for anything.’
‘Do you realise, Mr Hillman, that we have documentary evidence of that punishment taking place?’
Hillman looked hard at Tyler, but remained silent.
‘Wise documented all incidents in a book kept in his office. According to an entry made in that book, by Mr Wise, you and Jenkins were physically chastised.’
‘Then there must be some mistake. He clearly wrote down the wrong name.’
The confident swagger was still there, but the eyes betrayed a trace of uncertainty.
‘When did you last have contact with Steven Jenkins?’
‘I haven’t seen him in thirty years.’
‘What about Phillip Swanson, Douglas Marley, Paul Dammers?’
‘I saw two of them a few minutes ago.’
Mills watched the smugness glow across Hillman’s face.
‘And before then?’ said Tyler, maintaining his calm.
‘Again, it must be thirty years.’
‘And when were you last in Stoke-on-Trent?’
‘Oh, quite a while ago I should think.’
‘Not within the last week, then?’
‘No.’
‘Are you quite sure about that, Mr Hillman?’
‘Quite sure. I have nothing here apart from the grave of my mother.’ His face quickly assumed the gravity of pathos. ‘I must confess, with the somewhat busy life that I lead these days, I have sadly neglected my duties there.’
Mills could certainly see a rosy career as a politician stretching out before Martin Hillman.
‘Once this business is over, I will make it my priority to visit Mum’s grave. I take it I will still be welcome?’ he added with a sneer.
Mills eyed the DCI, who was managing not to respond to the provocation. The manipulative audacity of the man deserved a firm kick in the guts, thought Mills.
Tyler delivered it.
‘You were in the city a few days ago, Mr Hillman.’
The solicitor pointed out that if the DCI intended calling his client a liar, he had better have some evidence to back up the allegation.
‘You came to see Douglas Marley. To make sure Marley kept his mouth closed when the police started making enquiries about Alan Dale.’
Hillman eyeballed Tyler. ‘And did the same people tell you that who remembered me ‘tormenting’ Alan Dale? There seems to be a lot of hearsay doing the rounds, for some reason, though not a lot of substance.’
Tyler asked Mills for the envelope. Mills passed it on as Tyler told the blind tape machine what was happening. Then he removed the still images, and looked at Hillman. He could see tiny beads of perspiration forming on the politician’s brow.
‘Bit of a backwater, Stoke, wouldn’t you say?’ said Tyler. ‘According to some.’
Hillman said nothing.
‘Well, times appear to be changing. A Cultural Quarter, an Electoral Mayoral system – even healthy options as toppings on the traditional oatcake. Isn’t that true, DS Mills?’
Mills confirmed that there was no deceit in the statement.
Tyler let the connotations reverberate around the ‘oatcake’ reference.
‘Yes, your little alibi meeting – and didn’t somebody at the meeting refer to your trip to Stoke to buy oatcakes?’
‘Really, DCI Tyler. Are you conducting a serious investi
gation here or is this some Famous Five adventure?’
A glare from Tyler indicated that the brief wasn’t being as witty as he imagined.
Hillman clearly remembered.
He looked as though he was frantically trying to weigh up the damage. But all the time his eyes never left the back of the cards that Tyler was holding.
The DCI placed three images on the desk in front of Hillman.
‘And now the city even has CCTV, and what’s more, loaded and operational. You take a good photograph, Mr Hillman. I’m sure it will hold you in good stead for your future career.’
He turned the stills around so that Hillman could take a good look.
Each of the three images was clear, and unmistakable: Hillman and Marley, occupying the same bench in the churchyard.
‘You appear quite engrossed in this one,’ said Tyler, tapping the middle still. ‘Agitated, one might even say … threatening.’
Tyler sat back. ‘Dated, naturally. And the ones of you and Jenkins ought to be with us shortly. I’m told they’re equally impressive.’
Hillman’s brief asked for a few minutes to speak to his client in private. Tyler and Mills left the room and instantly the desk sergeant descended.
‘The chief wants to speak to you, sir. Urgently.’
The moustache appeared formidable, fronting as it did a face burning with stress and rage. ‘It seems that I arrived a little too late,’ spat Berkins.
‘Sir?’ said Tyler.
‘I was in two minds to come into that room and terminate the interview before any more damage was done. This farce has to stop while we still have a police station.’
Tyler told the senior man about developments.
‘Hillman’s sweating buckets in there. He’s lied and he’s got to come up with something fast. They’ll be limiting the damage, and whilst I’m not exactly expecting a full confession, at least regarding the murder of Steven Jenkins, this could be the start of the entire filthy web untangling.’
Berkins was looking far from convinced.
‘Jim,’ he said. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me. In fact, there’d better be.’
Julie Hammond hadn’t come clean yet, but Tyler was fairly certain that he knew where the missing pieces of the puzzle were hidden alright.
Berkins didn’t need telling how poor cross-border communication could be, and he didn’t need it spelling out about the risks involved in undercover operations. If this wasn’t played right, Hillman was going to wriggle out through the holes, and everything Hammond had presumably worked for could end up being compromised too.
Berkins wasn’t the first senior officer that Tyler had upset in recent times and he likely wouldn’t be the last. As for Hammond – he was saving her for another day.
Tyler bolted down a mug of tea so fast it gave him heartburn. Mills asked how he had gone on with Berkins.
‘He’s not quite hit the ejector seat, but we’re coming in on a wing and a prayer.’
‘Bit of a risk – that bluff about the pictures of Hillman and Jenkins?’
Tyler smiled. ‘You don’t approve?’
‘Will Berkins, though?’
‘Let’s just say that the subject of CCTV is dear to his heart. He stuck his neck out to get that equipment into the town centres, and he stuck it out even further to make use of covert recording equipment in Stoke churchyard.’
‘Sounds like he’s gone up in your estimation.’
‘The man’s an archangel, always said it. Actually, the truth is, there’s a lot worse than Berkins out there. The man goes to church. Deterring the bastards desecrating those graves isn’t enough for him though. He wants to catch them bone-handed.’
‘Marley thought the churchyard was a safe place because of the cameras,’ said Mills.
‘And Hillman didn’t think Stoke would pay to have them operational. Which is why Hillman thought the churchyard was as good a place as any to meet Marley when he took his evening stroll into town. But then Marley was a regular there, and Hillman didn’t want to risk anyone seeing the two of them together, and so they moved on to the less well-frequented part.’
‘What does Berkins want us to do with Hillman?’
Tyler shrugged. ‘I wasn’t kidding about being on a wing and a prayer. Having said that, forget what I said about ejector seats. If we end up making him look stupid he’s going to want to see us hitting the ground in a ball of flame. But he won’t be complaining if we manage to pull it off. If we nail this piece of shit.’
‘That’s very reassuring, sir.’
Hillman had regained his composure to an extent that surprised both detectives. Either the man was a true Houdini, or else chief of chiefs, the Almighty Charles Dawkins himself had finally left the golf course and was busily re-ordering the rules on which the world turned.
Hillman’s brief spoke first.
‘My client wishes to change some of the details of his previous statement.’
Hillman was back on. Apparently he had, after all, popped over to see Marley – and, yes, Jenkins too.
Mills could hear Tyler’s heartbeat even above the sound of his own.
‘I received a telephone call from Steven Jenkins. I have no idea how he tracked down my number, except that I am a reasonably high-profile character these days and I know a lot of people.
‘Jenkins was worried that the discovery of the corpse of Alan Dale would bring the police to his door. He sounded frightened and he pleaded with me to meet him. I did not want him coming to my house as I was naturally worried about a man I hadn’t seen for thirty years suddenly finding out where I live. So, I agreed to meet him in a neutral location – but you know all about that.’
Tyler was itching to know where. In what fantasy land the imaginary second set of covert CCTV cameras was ‘located’.
‘Why didn’t you alert the police?’ asked Tyler. ‘Jenkins was acting very suspiciously wouldn’t you say?’
‘I can see all that now. But, to be honest, the man sounded desperate.’
‘What did Jenkins want?’
‘He remembered me from school. Thought that I was somebody he could trust to give him some advice. He said that he had bullied Alan Dale in the past, but insisted that he didn’t kill him or anything like that. He wanted me to act as a character witness should the police visit him and take matters further.’
‘And why did you visit Douglas Marley?’
‘Jenkins asked me to. He thought that Mr Marley might, for some reason, believe it had been Steven who was responsible for the boy’s death. He wanted me to talk to Douglas Marley. He said that I was obviously a good communicator, which I took as a compliment, of course. I wanted to be helpful. That is my nature. As it turns out, perhaps I have been a little naive. We must all learn our lessons in life. Personally, I never stop learning.’
Tyler was about to challenge the whole ridiculous fabrication, when he recognised from the light in Hillman’s eye that the coup de grace was about to be delivered.
‘He also wanted me to ask Mr Marley about the girl.’
Tyler glanced at Mills. The two detectives, in that brief exchange, gave Hillman too much, and they knew it.
‘Girl?’ said Tyler.
‘Jenkins told me that he had been mucking about down by the park. That Marley had been with him. They were teasing the boy—’
‘Teasing?’ said Tyler.
‘His words, not mine. I wasn’t there, after all. Jenkins said that the boy – this Alan Dale – started crying, and so they left him alone at that point. But they saw a girl coming up the hill.’
‘The Stumps?’
‘I think that’s what they call it, yes.’
‘Jenkins didn’t say who this girl was?’ asked Tyler, his tone hard and sardonic.
Hillman ignored the tone. ‘He didn’t say. But he wanted me to ask Marley about her.’
‘Mr Hillman, if any of this is true, why did you not come forward before now? Why did you not impart this information to DS
Mills when he interviewed you previously?’
Hillman shook his head, the weight of remorse finely judged and immaculately executed. Here, thought Tyler, sat a man who could stand in front of a mirror and believe that he looked upon a future leader of nations.
‘I … really don’t know. I was trying to make sense of the business, and at the same time I was suspicious.’
‘Suspicious?’
‘Of Mr Jenkins’ real motive. Marley’s too, for that matter. You see, I wondered—’
Hillman broke off.
‘Mr Hillman?’ said Tyler.
‘You may find this somewhat fanciful,’ said Hillman.
‘Try me,’ said Tyler. ‘You never know.’
‘Well, the truth is – I wondered if they were not trying some implausible plot to, well, to blackmail me.’
Blackmail? Thought Tyler. A neat twist.
Hillman, who may have been blackmailing Howard Wood thirty years ago about his lunchtime drinking – turning the thing inside out and upside down. He had to hand it to the smug bastard, it was rich work.
But why was Hillman even raising the subject of blackmail?
There was something else going on here, thought Tyler. There was another piece of the puzzle, and Hillman was hedging his bets. Preparing for something?
‘Yet you still chose not to report any of this?’ said Tyler.
‘I have no doubt that I would have done, of course. But then I heard the news that Steven Jenkins had been murdered, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to think about any of it. I still don’t, if the truth be known.’
If the truth be known.
It took a man like Hillman to deliver a line like that, in this situation, without batting an eye.
Tyler knew, beyond doubt, that this man before him was a liar. Hillman had been there on both days in June, 1972, down by the park, tormenting Alan Dale, and likely instigating it. Arranging the killing of Steven Jenkins to keep his mouth shut, even throwing in a bag of cocaine for good measure.
Jenkins had been a chancer, his fingers in this and that over the years – but dying over a drugs deal? Tyler didn’t think so. He preferred the sound of blackmail, Jenkins playing the angles; a dying man having one parting shot at the prize.
Intimidation to quieten Marley, Swanson and possibly Howard Wood too. Conspiracy with Dammers to keep the secret of what had happened to Alan Dale all those years ago, and Jenkins playing his own game.
Red is the Colour Page 21