Dead Time
Page 26
Edmund smiled, the blankness in his eyes reminding him of the things the boy was capable of. ‘Because no one ever escapes us,’ he said, with such pride that Lambert had to look away lest he be forced to attack him.
Let’s move on to your two other victims, Inspector Duggan and Peter Saunders,’ said Matilda. ‘You confess to their killings?’
He shrugged, his solicitor staring at him.
Matilda touched the list in front of him. ‘It’s up to you, Edmund, but if you want to earn these you better start talking.’
‘His issues with Duggan are well known,’ said Edmund, pointing to Lambert. ‘My father told me about that long ago.’
‘So you wanted to implicate DCI Lambert, get him in trouble, is that it?’
‘He imprisoned my father, destroyed my family. Can you blame me?’
‘You have an interesting sense of justice, Edmund. What about Peter Saunders?’ asked Lambert. ‘He was your godfather. He was a member of the Manor. Don’t you have rules about killing each other?’
Edmund frowned.
‘Did he betray you, Edmund, is that it? You said to me before it was your idea, that it should have been your father who was set free. Then along comes Peter Saunders and takes your father’s place. That must have been devastating. And John Prine, was he caught in the crossfire?’
‘You don’t understand the planning involved, the research I undertook,’ said Edmund, reacting to Lambert’s suggestion.
Edmund’s pride was evident. He wanted to share his secrets, to reveal his cleverness. ‘I can imagine. How did you stage it, Edmund? How did you arrange for a prisoner to escape? Was it John Prine, was he the key?’
‘He was part of it. You have to look for a weakness, a reason to get them to do what you want.’
‘And John Prine had a weakness?’ asked Lambert.
‘He did, but he was a bit player.’
Lambert smiled at Edmund as if impressed with him. They were so close but one wrong word could blow it. ‘Who was it, then, Edmund? What did you discover, who had the weakness?’
Edmund lifted his chin, defiant. His eyes started to water, and Lambert feared he’d pushed the boy too far. ‘I saw him, you see. In one of the gatherings. No one else had spotted him. He was using an alias, obviously.’
Lambert nodded, not wanting to interrupt the flow in case the boy stopped talking.
‘I took videos of him in conversation, and more,’ said Edmund, a twisted smile forming on his lips.
‘And you used this information to blackmail him?’ said Matilda.
‘Blackmail is not a very nice word,’ said Edmund, turning to face Matilda in accusation. ‘I suggested we give him the opportunity to become one of us, and that was exactly what they did. But instead of getting him to free my father, they freed Peter Saunders.’
‘Who was it, Edmund? Who helped Saunders escape?’
‘My father was right about you, wasn’t he? Blinkered was the word he used. Can’t see what’s directly under your nose.’
Lambert wanted to counter-argue the accusation by pointing out that Edmund’s father was in jail but didn’t want to antagonize the boy just yet. ‘You’ve definitely got one over us here, Edmund. I’m impressed, but if you want to see your father again you need to tell me who was responsible.’
‘They need to go,’ said Edmund, pointing to the two prison guards in the room.
‘Do you mind, guys?’ said Lambert.
The men shrugged, one of them saying, ‘You’re taking full responsibility, then?’
Lambert looked at the prisoner, a handcuffed teenage boy, and stated the departure of the guards for the tape. ‘OK, Edmund, you have our attention.’
‘To confirm, if my client gives you the name of the person responsible for Peter Saunders’ escape he will receive the privileges stated on this sheet?’
Lambert had forgotten the duty solicitor was in the room. He looked at Matilda and they both nodded. ‘Tell us, Edmund.’
‘Who do you think? It was the Governor.’
Lambert leant in close. ‘You mean the Governor of this prison?’
‘Yep, Paul Guthrie.’
* * *
‘I need you both to stay here,’ said Lambert to Edmund and his solicitor. ‘If you mention what you just told me to the guards, the deal is off. Do you understand?’
Edmund smiled, happy to have Lambert at a disadvantage. If he was telling the truth it would explain many things. Paul Guthrie would have prior knowledge of Peter Saunders’ transfer, would have known or could have easily discovered the route he would have taken. With John Prine on board, it would have been feasible to arrange the attack which freed Peter Saunders. It still left unanswered questions, such as which members of the Manor gave the order and supplied the manpower, but at least they had Guthrie.
Lambert rattled the lock and one of the guards checked the peephole before opening the door. ‘I need to get permission from your Governor,’ said Lambert, to the more senior-looking of the two men.
‘For what?’ said the man.
‘I can’t disclose that. Is he in at the moment?’
‘I think so. Let me check,’ said the guard, using his radio. ‘Marge, is Governor Guthrie in his office at the moment?’
‘Hang on,’ came the reply through a hail of static. ‘Yes, he is.’
‘The police officers questioning Barnes would like to speak to him. Can I send them up?’
More static. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Text Tillman,’ said Lambert under his breath to Matilda as they were led through the corridors of the prison.
Edmund had mentioned he’d seen Guthrie at a meeting, making Lambert recall the material they’d recovered at Edmund’s student digs. Edmund, with or without the help of the Manor, must have used this to blackmail Guthrie. Sarah had been suspicious of the man from the beginning but Partridge hadn’t been interested; or if he had been, MI5 had done a very bad job in their investigation.
‘Glenn is sending a team over now,’ said Matilda once they reached upstairs. Her face was flushed, a thick white line of charred skin prominent on her cheek.
‘Good. Be ready for anything when we go in. As soon as Guthrie knows we’re onto him he’ll become unpredictable.’
They were led through another set of doors by the guard, who didn’t follow them through, locking the door from the other side. ‘Just through there,’ he said, pointing down the corridor.
The prison took on a different appearance through the door. Gone was the grey stone, the claustrophobic narrowness of the corridors and the barred gates. Here, the walls were a pristine white, the floors carpeted. The Governor’s secretary greeted them and asked them to take a seat, but both officers stayed on their feet.
‘Sir, DCI Lambert and DS Kennedy are here to see you now,’ said the secretary, through the intercom.
The machine buzzed with static and Lambert wasted no time.
‘You can’t do that,’ said the secretary, as Lambert opened the Governor’s door.
‘Matilda,’ shouted Lambert, as he burst into the office and ran at Paul Guthrie.
The prison Governor had made a makeshift noose from some electrical wire, and was dangling from a metal girder running the length of the ceiling. The man’s face was purple, his swollen tongue protruding from his mouth. Lambert grabbed his legs, his trousers soaked, and pushed his body upwards, taking the strain from the cable.
‘You don’t get to take the easy way out,’ said Lambert, struggling under the man’s weight, as Matilda worked with a frantic intensity on the wire until she cut through and Guthrie fell down onto Lambert.
Lambert pushed the body away, as Guthrie made a desperate attempt to breathe, the deep colour in his face fading to white as life returned.
Getting to his feet, Lambert grimaced as he brushed Guthrie’s fluids off his clothes. ‘DS Kennedy, read this animal his rights,’ he said, as Tillman and his team joined them in the office.
Epilogue – Nine Months Later
The smell of stale sweat permeated the interior of the van. The engine was switched off, the five officers within being boiled alive without the aid of air conditioning. Lambert drank his lukewarm bottle of water as he watched DS Bickland on the monitor walking with their suspect to the bed and breakfast.
Following on from the information supplied by Paul Guthrie, Bickland had worked undercover for the last six months. Everything had led to this moment. After surviving his attempted suicide, Guthrie admitted Edmund had blackmailed him. Initially the plan had been to free Jonathan Barnes, but others soon got involved and changed the rules. The figures who’d taken over from Edmund were nameless, but Guthrie had given them enough to work on.
Bickland was chosen due to his anonymity. Lambert and Matilda were known to the Manor but Bickland worked mainly behind the scenes. Not that they’d taken any chances. Bickland changed his appearance for the role, losing twenty pounds of weight, sporting a beard and cropping his hair to a buzz cut.
The man he was walking with was Gareth Hoskins, a convicted paedophile currently on parole. Hoskins had been promising Bickland entry to an exclusive club for the last four months and this morning Bickland received a call instructing him to meet Hoskins at six p.m. That was only four hours ago, Lambert and Tillman assembling the armed team at short notice.
In the time since Bickland had first made contact with Hoskins, Edmund Barnes confessed and had been convicted of the murders of Alistair Beckinsale, Lance Jenkins, Inspector Duggan and Peter Saunders.
Anna Saunders, who had made a miraculous recovery, had confirmed that Louise Barnes had been responsible for the attack on her. Edmund was now rooming at Her Majesty’s pleasure in a shared cell with his father in Luton prison, the governorship of which had changed hands following Pierson’s dismissal for gross misconduct. All of this served to undermine the MI5 agent, Partridge, whose department had been removed from their investigation into the Manor.
Lambert wasn’t sure how it had happened but he’d been appointed to lead a new department, set up with the specific aim of investigating and bringing down the Manor.
‘Where are we going, Gareth?’ asked Bickland in his West Country drawl, his voice reaching them via the wire sewn into his shirt.
‘They’re expecting you. You’ve been cleared, so take it easy,’ said Gareth, ringing the bell on the front door of the bed and breakfast.
The scene unfolded on Lambert’s screen in the van, cameras having been erected outside earlier that day. Newport House was a four-storey building offering discounted rates and was mainly used by travelling labourers. The sign on the front window suggested there were no vacancies, and it took two minutes before someone answered the door.
With no camera on the inside, they were relying on whatever information Bickland could offer by voice. The interior of the van was hushed; no one moved as the sound of footsteps played through the speakers. ‘We’re going down here?’ said Bickland, for their benefit.
Lambert was taken back to the few minutes he’d been trapped beneath Waverley Manor and the dungeon at Anna Saunders’ house where Sophie and Jane were kept. ‘Move in,’ he instructed, a wave of heat hitting him as he ran from the van.
The armed response team swept through the scene in seconds, the squad leader giving orders as small divisions split up to secure each floor, the main group heading downstairs.
Bickland played along as the response team headed downstairs and instructed the occupants to get to the floor. ‘Area secure,’ said the commander. ‘Ten males, unarmed.’
Lambert took a deep breath and headed inside. His concern all along was the lack of material evidence, but his worries were unfounded. The ten men, Bickland included, lay prone on the ground, as vile images played on a large overhead screen. He turned away, happy to let his fellow officers begin processing the men into custody.
‘Good haul?’ asked Tillman, who was waiting outside.
‘Nine perverts,’ said Lambert.
It was merely a start. Hoskins was small fry, and although it was good to get him and his sick friends off the streets, the arrests were the first step in a longer-term plan. Nine men meant nine bargaining chips.
Nine more opportunities to get to the top, to find out who was running the Manor.
Tillman didn’t congratulate him. ‘We have company,’ he said, pointing to a car further down the road.
Lambert recognized the saloon car, and the silhouetted figure within. Chief Superintendent Tanner raised his hand in greeting but didn’t leave the vehicle. Tanner and AC-10 had investigated the shooting at Anna Saunders’ house and decided not to bring charges against him or Sarah. Lambert would never know what pressure had been put on Tanner to drop the case, but the man had become ever-present in his life since. He was always lurking in the shadows, scrutinizing Lambert’s every move, waiting for him to slip up.
‘You want to speak to him?’ said Tillman.
‘And say what? No, if he wants to waste his time let him.’
* * *
Lambert left Matilda to supervise the processing of the men and headed to his car, with a final glance over to Tanner as he started the engine. It was Friday evening and he didn’t want to waste any more time. Cursing the London traffic he called ahead and warned Sophie he would be late.
‘OK,’ she said, her voice flat, devoid of concern.
He reached Beckenham ninety minutes later and knocked on the door of his former house. ‘She should be sleeping, Michael,’ said Sophie, holding Jane’s hand.
Jane broke from her mother’s grip and ran to Lambert who bent down and picked the girl up. It had taken three months to get to the stage where he was allowed to take Jane from the house. The kidnapping had changed his relationship irrevocably. Sophie, who was still limping following an operation on her Achilles tendon, had told him she no longer loved him, and the truth of her words hit him hard every time he saw her.
Although he understood why, he still struggled with the change in Sophie. All the years they’d spent together, the awful things they’d faced, counted for nothing. She blamed him for her and Jane’s kidnapping and nothing would alter that.
‘Tomorrow by six p.m.,’ said Sophie, kissing Jane on the forehead.
‘Bye, Mummy,’ said Jane, bouncing up and down in Lambert’s arms.
Lambert placed the girl in the back of the car and was reminded of Sophie’s mother’s words, ‘Don’t blow it this time, Michael.’
* * *
Jane had no memory of the incidents at Anna Saunders’ house. They’d run numerous checks and met with child psychologists, but she couldn’t recall anything. Sophie told him she’d found Jane unconscious in the room before Louise Barnes attacked her. Jane had been injected with a sedative, and they lived in hope that she would never recall the scene.
The girl was asleep by the time they reached the flat Lambert was renting. He carried her to her room, decorated so it matched her room in Beckenham, and watched her for a few minutes as he wondered how he’d so successfully messed things up again.
He checked in with Matilda before opening a bottle of red wine. He switched on the television, attempting to banish all thoughts of the case. Although Jane was asleep, he’d vowed to concentrate on her and her alone whenever they had time together.
The next day went too fast. After breakfast, they went to the park and ate ice cream in the sunshine. In the afternoon, they cuddled together on the sofa and watched one of Jane’s movies, Lambert’s stomach aching as the time to take Jane home drew nearer.
As he drove her home he told himself this was his deserved penance – for Chloe, and for leading Sophie and Jane into danger – his punishment could have been much worse.
Jane cried as Sophie took her from Lambert’s arms. Sophie stared at him like he was an apparition and said, ‘Two weeks, no sooner.’
The divorce was not yet finalized so Lambert accepted Sophie’s terms. He didn’t want to wait two weeks until he saw Jane again, but this was another part of
his penance and he had to remain patient.
He drove back and parked at the end of the road next to the local bar. The place was already jumping and Lambert considered joining the revellers within, but no one needed a maudlin figure ruining their evening. He stopped at the off-licence and purchased another bottle of red wine, hesitating as he reached the outside of his flat, a figure waiting by his front door.
Sarah May offered him a lopsided grin as she held aloft her own bottle of wine.
‘I thought you might like some company, but it seems you beat me to it.’
‘Why don’t we ditch these bottles and see what the night has in store for us?’ said Lambert. He hesitated before stepping towards her, a sense of calmness and relief coming over him as she reached forward and grabbed his hand.
LOOK OUT FOR
Dead Embers
An explosive fire and a murdered detective keep DCI Michael Lambert guessing as he is drawn into an investigation that is bigger, tinged by corruption, and altogether more terrifying than he could ever have imagined…Trust no one.
Find out more
First published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Matt Brolly, 2018
The moral right of Matt Brolly to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781911420446