by JJ Franklin
‘And the rest of you did nothing.’
‘I grabbed his arm, told him to leave it. It was like he was possessed.’
‘Were you scared of him?’
Harry was silent for a moment. ‘Yes.’
Kathy stopped. Harry was shaking and in tears and she was bullying him. It had helped get something out of her system, but it was an unforgiveable way of doing it. She rummaged in her pocket for a tissue.
‘Here.’
Harry wiped his eyes and blew his nose before he spoke. ‘Did Mrs Davis tell you?’
Kathy wasn’t sure she wanted to share this information and didn’t answer.
‘Why would she do that?’
The words burst out. ‘He was my son.’
‘Your son?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh my God.’
Kathy was aware that Harry was staring at her. ‘Then…then you came to the hotel especially to find me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘I wanted…no, had to see what kind of person you are.’
‘And?’
‘I like you.’
Both deep in thought, it went quiet. Harry broke it as he undid his seat belt, one hand on the door handle. ‘Did you find Jon?’
‘I…I—’
‘It was you. You killed Jon.’
Kathy remained silent, unable to face him.
‘And me? Do you plan to kill me too?’
‘No…yes. ’Til I met you.’
‘Dave?’
‘No. Of course not.’
‘Wasn’t that the plan?’
‘Yes.’
‘Nick, Tilly? She’s pregnant, in case you didn’t know.’
‘That was the plan.’
‘So you’re no better than me? Worse – ’cause you planned it all.’
Kathy couldn’t answer. It was what she had been telling herself, but to hear someone else spell it out felt like a physical attack.
Harry opened the door and got out, banging the door fiercely behind him, and strode away.
Kathy burst into tears.
Chapter 46
Vinny woke early and after manoeuvring and cursing around the tiny bathroom, headed for the delights of the main cabin. Dan was fast asleep on the narrow cushioned bench that served as a sofa. He looked cosy curled up in his sleeping bag, giving Vinny the intense desire to shake him. Why should he be sleeping when the day had started and the little rat could be making his breakfast? Struggling against his instinct, he managed to hold back, knowing he needed Dan on his side.
Vinny had already hinted that there might be room for Dan in Spain where he could lead a charmed life loafing in the sun. He’d watched Dan’s eyes light up at this suggestion. It was time to up the stakes and secure the little git’s full cooperation.
He squeezed past Dan, found the kettle, and filled it before facing the small stove. How hard could this be? He turned a knob, surprised and delighted to hear a hiss of gas, followed by a flame that set the ring alight. Soon, the kettle was boiling and he woke Dan with a mug of instant coffee. Sipping from his own mug, he watched Dan struggle out of his sleeping bag, surprise etched on his face at this unexpected service.
‘Morning, Dan. We have things to discuss.’
Despite being half asleep, Dan was suspicious. ‘I gotta do what Ops tells me.’
‘I know that, Dan. But you must remember who is paying Ops. That’s my money. That makes me the boss. Understand?’
‘Suppose so.’
‘And, it’s not as if I want you to disobey him. Just do one or two things for me on the side. For extra money of course.’
‘Can I tell Ops about these things?’
‘No. You see, he’s doing his best, but we both know that some things can only be done in a certain way – with a bit more force. While Ops is more of a gentleman, you and me are hard men. I’m not asking you to go against him, just not tell him everything. See?’
‘Like what?’
‘There’s someone I need to see.’
‘I ain’t allowed to take you anywhere.’
‘I’m not asking you to. But you could bring them here.’
‘Who are they?’
‘Just someone who knew and cared for my Jon.’
Chapter 47
Last night Matt had brushed down his dark suit and made sure his shoes were polished, ready for the press conference. He never found these events easy. When the grieving relatives broke down under the strain, it was hard not to feel their pain.
He drove the long way round so he could see Warwick Castle from the bridge. Somehow, the magnificent building, which had survived for hundreds of years, through wars, battles and intrigues always nourished him.
Arriving at CID, he found both Sam and Jane already there. There was now a picture of Vinny James on the board, taken at the time of his arrest four years ago. Matt looked at the face. It could have been pleasant, except for the curl at the corner of the mouth and his hard, bright eyes. It was easy to imagine this man beating someone to death. When they’d encountered him the other day, it was obvious he had tried to alter his appearance and Matt was pleased to see that Grant had noted the differences alongside the photo.
Also on the board was an unknown face. ‘Someone new?’ Matt asked Sam.
‘Dave’s drug contact, Jackson Groves. Picked up from his mobile. Minor local dealer. Drug squad have info on him. They’re hoping to reach the big boys through him and would be glad if we didn’t lift him for now.’
‘They are aware this is a murder enquiry?’
‘Yes. They’re willing to send in one of their undercover guys to ask any relevant questions as long as we don’t disturb the nest.’
‘Suppose we’ll have to make do with that. There’s little likelihood that he was involved in the murder, but he may have seen something and will know what drugs Dave bought. Will you liaise with them, Sam?’
‘Will do, guv.’
‘Did you catch up with Harry yesterday?’
‘Tried, but couldn’t get hold of him. I’ll have another go today.’
‘Okay.’
Matt stood looking at the board. ‘We’re clutching at straws, aren’t we?’
‘Maybe the press conference will bring something in.’
‘I doubt it. But suppose it’s worth a try.’
‘Can’t do any harm.’
‘No. No, you’re right.’ Matt loosened his tie and turned towards his office, aware that there would be a pile of reports to read from overnight. Settling at his desk, he noticed Grant arriving with two cardboard cups of coffee that he set down in a deliberate, careful way. Matt knew it wouldn’t be easy for Grant to stay on the wagon, but this was just a few days in and he looked hung over. He made a mental note to have a word with him later. Sighing, he settled at his desk. Jane joined him, bearing coffee.
‘All set, boss?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’ Looking up, he thought she looked better. There was a sense of lightness about her, colour in her cheeks and the dark circles were disappearing. Matt wondered again about her love life. He resolved not to be nosey and leave her to tell him when she was ready. After all, their brief fling, long past, did not give him the right to question her.
On top of the pile of reports was one from SOCO on the Dave Beeson murder scene. They’d found a small amount of white powder scattered over and around the body and after the body was removed, a plastic packet. This contained remnants of the same powder, now known to be cocaine. As he read on, Matt became excited. They’d lifted a finger mark from the packet that matched Vinny James. Now they could place him at the scene. All they had to do was catch him.
By the time he had ploughed through several files, making decisions and notes of the actions to take, it was time to leave for the press con
ference. After updating Sam, who would run the team meeting, he stopped by Grant’s desk.
‘How’s the Vinny enquiry coming on, Grant?’
Grant didn’t look up but merely nodded and grunted.
‘Let’s have a catch up later.’
‘Fine.’
Matt had to be content with that and made his way downstairs to the purpose-built suite. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Julie Pritchard and her husband, as despite their best efforts, Dave’s killer was still at large.
The Pritchards were with the press officer. Julie stood white-faced, staring straight ahead, except for a brief glance in his direction. Matt sensed the accusation in her glance. Mr Pritchard stayed by her side but nodded to Matt.
While the press officer ran through the format of the press interview, Matt pulled PC Foster aside, the FLO, to ask how the Pritchards were coping.
‘She’s still in shock. I think she feels guilty for not protecting him. Ian’s doing all the right things to support her. Pretty typical I would say, sir.’
‘Thanks. OK, let me know if anything changes.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Walking through to face the press, Matt recognised several faces in the front row. They would all be hoping for tears and recriminations and Julie would certainly satisfy them on that score. He could almost see the headlines now. ‘Grieving sister begs for help to catch brother’s killer’. Sometimes these press conferences did awaken something in the memory of an unsuspecting witness. Yet usually they yielded nothing worth putting the likes of Julie through the distress of it all. When asked if he thought the appeal might help, Matt mentioned Dave’s murky past and suggested the reporters might bring this up and so defeat the object. How many people would choose to put themselves out when they heard he’d helped kick a man to death? Many, like McRay, would be thinking his death was no loss.
As the press conference began, Matt concentrated on his role. The superintendent gave the opening speech and Matt gave a brief outline of the case, before handing over to Julie and Ian Pritchard.
Ian held his wife’s hand tightly, encouraging her to begin. Matt could see Julie steeling herself and she began speaking in a quiet, wavering voice. One of the reporters called for her to speak up so Matt bent to adjust the microphone. Julie stumbled on, forgetting the prepared statement in her hand. By the time she was finished, the tears were running down her cheeks and Ian’s arm was around her.
The press started to ask questions, most of which the super or Matt fielded. Just as Matt was thinking it was about time to wind it all up, someone asked the question he was dreading.
‘Mrs Pritchard, do you think your brother got what he deserved? He did commit murder, did he not?’
Matt recognised the man at the back. Rob Peters, a reporter from one of the London papers. The same one who stirred up the dirt after Gracie died. Julie simply stared in horror at the man and buried her head in Ian’s shoulder. Matt jumped in.
‘Take her out, Ian. Perhaps I can answer that. Dave Beeson was indeed involved in a killing two years ago, when he was only sixteen. He was arrested, tried for that offence and has served his time. Not only that, but, haunted by what he had done, he suffered a breakdown and had been ill ever since. Are you really proposing that we only investigate those cases where the victim is snow white and forget about the others?’
Greeted by silence, Matt added. ‘I didn’t think so.’
Matt was relieved when the super thanked the press for coming and closed the meeting. Hoping that the reporters had enough to make a story and feature the appeal, Matt left, pausing only to thank the Pritchards for their help. Shaken by the presence of Rob Peters, he couldn’t get away fast enough. Seeing his mistake amplified in print had only served to exaggerate his sense of guilt over Gracie. What if Rob Peters decided to drag it all up again, use him to make headlines? The memory of her was always with him, reminding him not to let anyone down. Yet a small persistent voice reminded him that he had failed both Gracie and Dave.
Sam was just finishing the team meeting when Matt returned.
‘Anything new, Sam?’
‘The PM is on your desk.’
‘Thanks. Anything unexpected?’
‘Not really. Not much luck with the door-to-door, except one sighting of a woman sitting in a car outside the Pritchard house. I’ve put the report on your desk.’
‘Thanks, Sam. Nothing on the CCTV?’
‘Sorry.’
The post mortem confirmed that David Beeson was beaten and kicked to death. There were no defensive wounds. Matt turned to the door-to-door reports and found little of interest, except a statement made by a neighbour who had seen a woman parked opposite the Pritchards’ house at about ten twenty. Thank God for the nosey, Matt thought. The woman, described as middle-aged, was driving a red Peugeot. Matt immediately thought of Kathy Wylde. He was sure there had been a red Peugeot in her drive. Matt strode from his office to ask Wendy if she would get the registration details for him, citing that she was a suspect in a murder case. If CCTV could place her car in Leamington on that night, it would be a start.
Leaving Wendy, he decided this was a good time to talk to Grant. Although he wasn’t looking forward to berating the man again, it had to be done.
‘Shall we go over the Vinny details, Grant?’ Grant jumped up straight away, gathering documents ready to follow Matt back to his office. He seemed alert and a different man from first thing this morning. Matt wondered if he was mistaken in thinking him hung over, until he saw numerous empty coffee cups in the bin.
Impressed by the amount of detail in Grant’s report, Matt thanked him while wondering how to bring up the subject of drink. His eyes lighted on the list of pubs Grant had compiled and he picked it up. ‘Hope you haven’t been tempted to investigate any of these on your own, Grant?’
‘I did pop in to a couple yesterday, just for a look around.’
Although Grant aimed for casual, he didn’t meet Matt’s gaze. ‘I asked you to compile a list, not check them out yourself, Grant. Surely you can see that it puts temptation in your way. That’s why you were hungover this morning.’
Grant raised his head and Matt thought he was going to argue the point. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders. ‘I can understand you wanting to follow through on your research, Grant, but in this case, it can’t be done. We both know the dangers. How about I share out this list between Sam and some of the others?’
Grant looked up at last. ‘You don’t trust me?’
‘After this morning, no.’ Matt was determined not to make it easy. Grant had to stay away from the booze or lose his job. It was that simple. ‘How’s it going with the counsellor?’
‘Only had one meeting. Another this afternoon.’
‘Stick with it.’
‘Mmm.’
Matt wondered what he could say or do to help. He needed to engage Grant and keep his mind off the drink. Flipping through the papers Grant had placed before him, he noticed a list of other places associated with Vinny. He passed this across to Grant. ‘How about you and I see a couple of these tonight? I could spare a couple of hours. Knock a few off the list.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Good. Say six o’clock? Let’s start with Mike’s Gym.’
‘Okay. You’re the boss.’
As Grant left, Matt made a quick call to Eppie to say he would be late, before picking up the next report.
Chapter 48
Just before six o’clock Grant was ready and waiting. Glancing towards Matt’s office, he was relieved to see him standing, getting ready to leave, and then dismayed to see McRay approaching. He went into the office and both men sat down.
Moving closer to Matt’s office, Grant tried to catch his eye, without any luck. He couldn’t hang about forever, had to get to the Golden Acorn by seven to meet the red-headed woman.
&nbs
p; By six twenty, his impatience rising, Grant was ready to walk. It had been a slim chance anyway, but he still might just have made it if they’d left on time. Frustration building he paced up and down, an eye on the clock. Finally, McRay left and Matt strode towards him.
‘Sorry about that. Couldn’t ignore the boss.’
‘I know that feeling.’ The words shot out before he could stop them.
Matt shot him a glance but didn’t say anything and Grant realised he would have to calm down or Matt would get suspicious. It was almost as if this was some kind of test and, if it had been anyone else, he would tell them where to go, but Matt had stuck up for him, saved his job, so he had a right.
Leamington was their first port of call. Mike’s Gym had been in business for over thirty years and, according to a tattered notice, seemed to offer more in the defensive arts than the usual workout. Situated above a shop at the bottom of the Parade, the entrance was through a grubby side door. The stairs were narrow and uncarpeted, designed to discourage the customary gym trade. Reaching the top, they were faced with a wide expanse that encompassed a boxing ring on one side, while the rest of the space was filled with several pairs of white-suited men, all engaged in attacking each other.
None of the men took any notice of their arrival. Although Grant was certain they were aware, no one came forward to greet them. Unable to stand any delay, he stepped forward to grasp the arm of one of the young men. ‘The boss?’
With a glare, the man shook his arm free and nodded to a door in the far corner, before returning to attack his partner with renewed energy. Grant followed Matt around the other combatants to the small room with a fading sign of office painted on its glass door.
Not bothering to knock, Matt opened the door. Inside a well-built young man was on the phone. He stood as they entered and stopped talking. Grant guessed he was expecting them and that the place must be fitted with an early warning system.
‘I’m Detective Inspector Turrell and this is Detective Inspector Grant. We need to have a word with the manager.’
Following Matt’s lead, Grant held up his warrant card while watching the man. He put the telephone down and folded his arms.