Echoes of Justice (DI Matt Turrell Book 2)

by JJ Franklin

  ‘I’ve told you, I don’t know. Why don’t you listen to me and leave me in peace?’ Harry turned and started to walk away, not wanting the man to see how distressed he was, but the man caught his arm.

  ‘I am inclined to believe you, Harry. However, I do need to return to my friend with some snippet that will help us solve this puzzle, otherwise there will be no telling what he may be driven to. You do understand, don’t you, Harry?’

  ‘I know nothing. Leave me alone.’

  ‘That is a shame as I would hate to see you…or your family, hurt. For instance, who was the lady who introduced herself as Kathy?’

  ‘Just some woman from the hotel.’

  ‘Yet you accompanied her down Bridge Street and got into her car. I wonder why that was.’

  ‘She’s in the same choir, that’s all.’

  ‘There, you do have more information. Does this lady have a surname?’

  Harry hesitated. Dave had been killed because he gave this man his name. There was no way he wanted to be responsible for someone else’s death. Anyway, he didn’t know her name.

  ‘I don’t know her name. Honest.’

  The man studied him before patting him on the arm. ‘I think you can do better than that.’

  Harry, welling up with anger, turned to face the man. ‘Even if I knew her name, I wouldn’t tell you. Now go away before I call my friends to help throw you out.’

  ‘Harry, Harry, there is no need to be like this. No need at all. I expected you to be upset, after all, David was your friend. As, I assume, is this lady. You can safely tell me her name, unless, of course, she is responsible for the death of Jonathan James. And I wouldn’t think this is likely. Would you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then what is the harm, especially when a tiny snippet of information could protect those closest to you, like say, your dear grandmother?’

  Harry froze. This man could do what he liked and he caused Dave’s death. He thought of his gran; she had always stood by him. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.

  ‘Now, when you see this lady again, I want you to find out her surname. You will do this one thing for me, won’t you, Harry?’

  Harry nodded. All he wanted was for the man to go away, leave him alone. He was relieved when he seemed satisfied and with a final pat to Harry’s arm, was gone. Sick with worry, Harry lost interest in joining Ben’s celebrations and returned to his room. Should he try to warn Kathy, or would it be better to call that detective who had come to see him? Getting out Sergeant Withers’ card, he laid it on the bed and wondered if it was too late to call. What would he say? Would he get into trouble for not calling him before, especially after Dave’s death? Deciding he didn’t want another death on his conscience, he dialled the number, heard it ringing, then cut it off, scared.

  Chapter 37

  Matt drove through the avenue of trees towards the crematorium, thinking how tastefully it was set out. It added a dignity to the final ceremony for the dead. Not that he expected many would attend Jonathan James’s last appearance or would turn up to mourn his passing.

  Both he and Grant were dressed in sombre clothes, aiming to fade into the background as much as possible, although this could be difficult if the turnout was small. It was a well-known fact that murderers would sometimes turn up to see the fruits of their labours, enjoying one last thrill in the power of their handiwork. In addition, Vinny James may turn up to say farewell to his son.

  Surprised by the amount of cars in the tree-surrounded car park, Matt drove on to the overspill area. Surely all these people weren’t here to honour Jonathan. He had expected that some press might turn up but nothing like this. Then, as they made their way to the entrance, everything became clear. People began to spill out as they approached. There was no one he recognised. Two strapping young men were supporting an older woman, dressed all in black, and Matt guessed this was the funeral before Jonathan’s.

  He and Grant stepped back out of respect as the large crowd of mourners stopped to give their condolences to the widow. It seemed an age until they dispersed and the wind, carrying a hint of snow, was beginning to bite.

  Finally, the black limousines glided forward and the rest of the party began to make their way back to their cars. It was then he saw Mrs James sheltering on the other side of the thinning crowd, shivering in the cold. The man accompanying her showed a likeness, although he was much taller. Matt moved forward to repeat his condolences and she introduced the man as Richard, her brother who had come down from Sheffield. He was obviously a man of few words as he nodded to her introduction of Matt and Grant and turned to lead his sister inside.

  Inside it was blessedly warm with the air overlaid with the scent of flowers. The soft background of organ music made Matt want to talk in whispers. The sense of light and peaceful colours gave out an ambience of calm as if to persuade those entering that it was going to be a pleasant experience. Overall, it reminded Matt of the dentist’s with their decoys of fish tanks and mood music.

  They followed Mrs James and her brother into the main auditorium, choosing to sit in the middle row. Mrs James went down to the front of the raked seats, looking lost in the large space. Just as Matt was wondering if they were to be the only mourners, two elderly women came in and moved to sit behind Mrs James. She turned to acknowledge them. Matt guessed they were probably neighbours.

  Then a young man entered and, from Sam’s description, and his own memory of arresting him two years ago, Matt was sure he must be Harry. He seated himself across the aisle from Matt and Grant.

  ‘Hope you’ve got a loud voice, sir,’ Grant hissed in a loud whisper as he flipped through the hymnbook to find the first hymn.

  ‘Might have to rely on you for that.’

  ‘You’ll regret it.’

  ‘I’ll take my chance.’

  Eventually, the music swelled and the small group stood as the coffin entered. Mrs James began to sob quietly and her brother looked embarrassed, feeling in his pockets for a crumpled hankie to hand to her. Matt felt uncomfortable and glancing at Grant, he guessed he was feeling the same.

  Once the coffin was placed on the central plinth, the organist began the chords of the first hymn. Mrs James and her brother couldn’t manage to sing at all, but the elderly women were giving it their best, so Matt and Grant joined in to support. Surprised that Grant had a strong voice, which seemed to be on key, Matt followed him as best he could. With the young vicar adding his rich baritone and Harry’s tenor, between them they managed a fair sound. Matt was pleased for Mary James’s sake. This was the final send-off for her son and although he had been nothing but trouble, he meant the world to her.

  They sat down and the vicar began a reading. Matt, aware that someone else had entered, risked a quick glance round. A man wearing a fur hunting hat, the kind with flaps that come down either side of the head, had slipped into the last row. He had a reporter’s notepad on his knee. Matt wasn’t surprised to see a reporter but couldn’t place him to any of the local papers.

  Harry too turned around before slumping down in his seat, as if he didn’t want the man to notice him. It could be he didn’t want to appear in any newspaper report connected to Jonathan James, but Matt wondered if it was anything else. From his quick glance, he couldn’t tell if the man was Vincent James, but he would have tried to disguise himself in some way.

  The vicar’s recap of the deceased’s life seemed to go on a long time and Matt wondered how he found so many kind things to say about Jonathan James and thought it must be a skill they developed. He barely touched on the trouble he had been in, dismissing it as ‘losing his way’.

  They rose to sing the last hymn, the one where the coffin slides gracefully from view. Mary’s sobs became louder, prompting the singers to raise the volume. Hearing a movement behind, Matt turned to see the reporter leaving. He gave Grant a nudge and put down his hy
mnbook, sliding out as quietly as he could.

  They arrived at the entrance as the man was walking away. Matt raised his voice.

  ‘Could we have a word, sir?’

  The man turned around briefly and then began to run. Matt and Grant sped after him, now certain he was no reporter. Although he had the advantage of a head start, Matt was closing the gap with Grant panting at his heels.

  The roar of an engine caused the man to slow. Looking towards the sound, Matt saw a nondescript car racing down on them. It shot between Matt, Grant and the man they were chasing, slowing for the man to jump in, before speeding off down the drive.

  ‘Bugger.’ Matt stopped, allowing Grant to catch up with him.

  Grant managed to get out between pants, ‘Vinny.’

  ‘Shit.’

  Grant bent over recovering his breath while Matt phoned it in. ‘Vincent James, wanted for armed robbery. Just leaving Oakley Wood crematorium in a dirty, dull green car. I think it was an old Escort. Number plate concealed in mud. Yes, thanks.’

  Grant straightened. ‘So he was involved.’

  ‘Looks like it. Come on, I want a word with young Harry. He recognised Vinny too.’

  ‘Yes, he didn’t want to be noticed, did he?’

  By the time they got back to the crematorium, the small group had gone through to look at the floral tributes. Matt and Grant joined them at the pitiful display. Just four wreaths and one small bouquet with a handwritten note occupied the grass under the sign, Jonathan Bernard James.

  Matt bent to view the note. The handwriting was hard to read and he crouched down. ‘Bye Son’, it said, but the line beneath made Matt catch his breath: ‘I’ll sort out the bastard who did this to you, don’t you worry. Dad.’ Matt stood, wanting to swear, but stopped himself out of respect.

  ‘What’s up?’ Grant asked.

  ‘Take a look.’ He nodded to the bouquet and as Mary was approaching, he stepped forward to offer her his condolences. She spoke before he could begin.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Inspector.’

  ‘Glad to be here, Mrs James, and it was a very moving service.’

  ‘Thank you. He did his best, didn’t he? Brought out all the good points of Jonathan. There were some, you know, Inspector.’

  ‘I’m sure of that. Can I ask you if that young man is Harry Winters?’ Matt indicated Harry, who was standing on the edge of the group. Mary turned to look.

  ‘Yes. It was kind of him to come, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Very.’ Matt was aware that Grant had straightened and that he needed to speak to Harry before he left. The vicar approached so he relinquished his place, pausing only to pat Mary on the arm. With Grant beside him, he moved towards Harry.

  Harry glanced up, obviously aware they were police. It showed how much the young man had changed in that he made no attempt to move away.

  ‘Is it Harry?’ Matt asked, wanting to keep it as low key as possible for his sake.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You were Jonathan’s mate?’

  ‘A long time ago. Before…before, well you know what.’

  Matt nodded. ‘We aren’t here to talk about that, Harry. Just wanted to ask you if you recognised the man who sat at the back during the service?’

  Harry glanced away as if he didn’t want to answer.

  ‘He’s gone, Harry, so there’s no need to worry.’

  Harry looked around as if to make sure.

  ‘Has he threatened you?’

  ‘I know what he’s like.’

  ‘Who?’ Matt and Grant asked simultaneously.

  ‘Him. Jon’s dad.’

  ‘Vincent James?’

  Harry nodded, ill at ease even talking about the man. ‘He’d tried to make himself look different, but it was him.’

  Matt decided to let Harry off the hook as he had given them everything they needed and besides the vicar was walking Mary towards them.

  ‘Thanks, Harry.’

  Harry nodded and went to move away, then turned back. ‘He’s the one who killed Dave, isn’t he?’

  Matt moved swiftly to his side. This wasn’t the place to discuss this, not with Mary a few yards away. ‘Look, Harry, best not talk of this here. Maybe we can drop you somewhere?’

  Harry was quiet for a moment, then nodded. Matt watched as he stopped to speak briefly to Mary. Sam had described him as a good lad and Matt thought he had that spot on.

  Grant echoed his thoughts. ‘Seems like he’s learnt his lesson.’

  ‘Yes.’ He moved Grant away from the others. ‘Did you notice if Mrs James looked at that bouquet?’

  ‘I’m sure she didn’t have the time before we caught up.’

  ‘Good. I want that card, but think it is best if we wait until Mrs James has left. Don’t want to upset her.’

  ‘So she had no idea he was here?’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘Poor cow.’

  Matt nodded, wondering if Vincent James had tried to contact his wife and if she would tell them if he had. He would have to make another visit to see her.

  Once Mary had left with her brother, Matt turned back to the flowers. He was glad the vicar had disappeared inside as it felt wrong to take the note, but Matt assured himself that he would keep it safe and return it. Putting on his gloves, he crouched and detached it, sliding it into an evidence bag before making his way to the car park amidst those arriving for the next funeral. Grant and Harry were waiting for him in the car.

  ‘They certainly do a roaring trade, don’t they?’

  ‘Roaring being the operative word,’ Matt retorted.

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘Well, you said it first.’

  Conscious that Harry had just attended the funeral for an old mate, Matt thought it was not quite the thing to be making light of and tried to change the subject.

  ‘Where can we drop you, Harry?’

  ‘Anywhere. Thanks.’

  Harry seemed uncomfortable. Even though this was an unmarked car, Matt guessed it was bringing back memories he would rather forget.

  ‘Why did you think it might be Vincent James who killed Dave Beeson, Harry?’

  ‘When I saw him there today, it seemed like something he would do.’

  ‘And you haven’t seen him around recently?’

  ‘No.’

  Matt glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw Harry’s lips firmly shut. He was sure Harry knew more than he was letting on but decided to leave it for the moment. Maybe Sam would be able to get more out of him. It was obvious the lad was afraid of Vinny and probably with good cause.

  ‘Harry, I can’t comment on any specific case, but I’m thinking that Vincent James is bad news. We need to talk to him urgently. If you see him again, will you give DS Withers or myself a call?’

  After a moment’s hesitation, Harry gave a nod. Matt had to be content with that and passed over his card as they dropped Harry at a bus stop.

  Grant broke the silence as they pulled away. ‘Want me to call and see if uniform have had any luck with Vinny and his mate?’

  ‘You can try. Depends which way he went.’ Matt thought of the winding road that led to the crematorium. If he had gone north towards Warwick and Leamington, he’d have a choice of roads to take, including the M40. The other way would take him into Wellesbourne and again numerous ways to turn off. It would all depend on if a patrol car had been in the right area.

  Chapter 38

  Matt was glad to arrive back at the warm office and wrap his hands around a hot mug of coffee. Dipping into the biscuit tin, he was delighted to see it full of his favourite jammy dodgers. Still munching, he called the team together.

  ‘First of all, congratulations, Sam, you were spot on. We can now confirm that Vincent, or should I say Vinny James is back on the scene. Not only that bu
t he appears intent on avenging his son. This note, left with flowers at the funeral, substantiates it.’ Matt held up the evidence bag containing the note. ‘If we can find out where those flowers were bought, we may be able to pinpoint the area he is holed up in. Wendy, can you contact local florists, see if they recognise Vinny? I’d go as far as Warwick, just in case. The note can then go to forensics. We’ll need to circulate his picture too and put uniform on alert.’

  Wendy nodded and Matt thought how invaluable she was – always ready to help and usually came up trumps.

  ‘Grant, care to share what you know about Vincent James?’

  Grant stood and moved to the front. ‘Glad to, sir. He’s a known bullyboy, a local big man, who’d been in and out of prison for robbery and assault. He is a violent man who likes to imagine himself in the top league. I arrested him for armed robbery over four years ago, but he escaped custody so never went to trial. Some of the others involved in that attack are still in prison, so it might be worth having a word with them, especially as we never recovered the considerable proceeds of that robbery.’

  ‘They must be seething that Vinny is out and has access to their share of the takings. Yes, we’ll see them and use that angle. See if there really is honour amongst thieves. Thanks, Grant. Anything else?’

  ‘Before his arrest, he was known to frequent both the Leamington and Warwick areas, especially some of the pubs in Warwick. I’ve made a list. I’m still working on his known associates, old cellmates and the like. There is a rather unusual one from several years back, a Harold Harper-Jones. He was a solicitor who was in for fraud. Thought he might be worth looking up.’

  ‘Yes. Someone like that would know his way around concealing money. And he would have been very glad of some protection. Address?’

  ‘Still working on that.’

  ‘Do you need any help, Grant?’

  ‘Not at the moment. Be good if someone else can talk to the rest of the gang.’

  ‘We’ll take care of that. Good work. Sam, do you fancy a trip to Long Lartin prison?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Get the details from Grant.’ Sam nodded and Matt turned to the next problem. ‘We need to let those who might be in Vinny’s firing line know that he is back on the scene. Jane, would you talk to uniform and have them find and warn Nick and Tilly that they may be in danger? Sam, on the way back from the prison, would you call in and see Harry? We spoke to him briefly after the funeral and I have the feeling he knows more than he is telling.’