Riddled on the Sands (The Lakeland Murders)

by Salkeld, J J

  ‘What makes you say that, Andy?’ asked Mann.

  ‘We know his drinking’s got worse, don’t we? Our working hypothesis is that he’s new to this game, whatever it is, and we know for sure that he’s no kind of career criminal. He’s frightened, of course he is, because he very probably saw his mate get gunned down out there. But maybe he’s also worked out that his new friends might well make sure that a fishing accident befalls him in the not too distant future, which wouldn’t surprise me at all, and that he’d at least feel better if he told us the lot.’

  ‘You want me to have a chat with him?’ asked Geoff. ‘Say pretty much that, like. It might persuade him to talk.’

  ‘No, thanks, it would need to be Ian. But give it a day or two yet. I’d rather let the pressure build a bit more first. It would be much better if he came to us, and I really don’t think that’s impossible. He might work the situation out for himself.’

  ‘Clutching at straws a bit though, aren’t we?’ said Mann. ‘I could get him back in tomorrow, and tell him how it is. Lay out his options for him.’

  ‘I’m sure you could’ said Hall. ‘But, like I say, let’s really focus on him and his circle for a few days. Where he’s been, both before and after Bell’s death, who he knows, any changes in his pattern of behaviour. I know we’ve done lots of it already, but let’s do all of it again, and do plenty more on top. That sat-phone call is all we need to justify the additional cost, because without it we’d have to go into ongoing enquiry mode, and you all know what that means.’

  ‘No enquiry at all’ said Atkinson.

  ‘Pretty much. But we’re not in that situation yet, not by a long chalk, and all because Capstick probably didn’t do what his mates told him to, and he made that call using his own phone.’

  ‘You want us to set up an observation on him, too?’ asked Mann. ‘Might be worth it.’

  ‘Yes, it very well might be worthwhile, but we’d need more to go on. An indication that he was currently active, say, and that seems unlikely. My guess is that Capstick’s little jaunt out on to the Bay that night was his last ever trip, even if it wasn’t also his first. The kind of pros that we seem to be dealing with here would never risk using him again, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘But what if they try to take him out?’

  Hall nodded. ‘I agree, that’s a risk, but Gorham would never wear the cost. You’re talking about upwards of five grand a day to do anything worthwhile, and we just don’t have that kind of money. So I’m afraid Pete Capstick is on his own, unless he decides to do the right thing. He got involved with some really scary people, and now he’s got to face the consequences. And he’s got to do it all alone, at that.’

  Jane put the phone down, and then looked at it for a moment. ‘What a dick’ she said, to no-one in particular.

  ‘Andy, was it?’ said Dixon, from across the office.

  Jane wasn’t in the mood, so she didn’t take the bait. She just filled out the online form, saying where she was going, and why, and grabbed her car keys.

  ‘How many days is it now?’ she said to Ray as she passed his desk, and regretted it straight away. She almost went back to apologise, and she stopped at the top of the stairs for a second, wondering why she’d been so cruel. But then she carried on, and walked quickly out to her car.

  When she got in she found her phone, and texted Ray. That made her feel a bit better. And by the time she reached Penrith she felt fine, and was even thinking about picking up a few tasty treats from the deli in the square. She knew Andy would appreciate that.

  She parked outside the house, and looked at it. She could just see herself and Andy in an Edwardian villa like this, rather than that functional housing-estate box that he’d bought his kids up in. But they’d be gone soon, at least for most of the year, and she reckoned that somewhere like this would do nicely. It would be good to get Andy out of Kendal, and at the very least out of that house, and she meant to make sure that it happened.

  She knocked at the glossy green door and waited. The sandstone step was slightly worn in the middle, and she liked that. When the door opened Jane was surprised, not at the voice, which would have sounded angry saying ‘thank-you’, but at the body. The man was small and wiry, and she’d expected a burly, red-faced bloke.

  ‘Couldn’t you have just sent someone from Penrith? Your HQ is only a mile away you know, but you’ve driven all the way from Kendal. Using our petrol, not your own, I’ll bet. It’s a bloody disgrace.’

  Jane could feel her good mood fading as quickly as it had arrived.

  ‘Mr. Anderson, could I come in? Perhaps we could have a cup of tea, and a chat?’ Jane smiled, but it didn’t seem to be having any effect. But she was wrong. It had.

  ‘Aye, of course, come in. It’s that little creep you’re interested in anyway, and I knew he was a wrong ‘un. Face like a weasel sucking a lemon. What’s he been up to, then?’

  ‘Perhaps I could tell you inside?’

  Anderson stepped back, and Jane followed him in to the house. It was a bit of a disappointment when she saw how it was decorated, but then she’d already imagined it just the way she wanted it to be.

  Anderson set about making them tea.

  ‘So what’s he done, then? Fraud, I bet.’

  ‘No, Mr. Anderson. He was victim of a crime, arson in fact, not the perpetrator.’

  ‘As far as you know.’

  Jane smiled. ‘That’s right. You didn’t read about it in the paper then? Someone set fire to his garage, his stock-room if you like.’

  ‘No, I didn’t know. Shame about one thing though.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘That he wasn’t in it.’

  ‘You don’t mean that, Mr. Anderson.’

  ‘Don’t I? But he wasn’t inside it, I take it?’ Jane shook her head. ‘Probably just kids then, round them garages.’

  Suddenly Jane wasn’t thinking about interior design any more. ‘How do you mean, round them garages?’

  ‘Just a figure of speech, like.’

  ‘Have you ever been to Mr. Perkins’ house?’

  ‘No, of course not. I just sold him some stock, or rather he stole it off me.’

  ‘Stole it from you how, exactly?’

  ‘He messed me about for weeks, until I had to sell. He knew that, and he just played me along, the unscrupulous little bastard. Nice stuff it was, too. There should be a law against it.’

  ‘What kind of stuff?’

  ‘Lighting. Lamp shades, bases, bulbs, all sorts. That’s what my shop used to sell. But I thought it was him you’re interested in, not me.’

  Jane heard something in his tone that she didn’t much like.

  ‘I’m investigating the fire, and also some threatening letters that were sent to Mr. Perkins.’

  ‘Well, they’ve got nothing to do with me. Like I said, it was probably just kids.’

  ‘Do you have children, Mr. Anderson?’

  ‘No. What’s that got to do with anything? First the questions are about Perkins, now they’re about me all of a sudden. What’s this all about, eh?’ He had stopped making tea. The kettle had boiled, but the pot stayed dry. Jane got the message. She didn’t have long.

  ‘Children don’t really send letters, do they, Mr. Anderson? Not these days.’

  ‘How do you know that the person who sent the letters started this fire?’

  Jane smiled. ‘We don’t.’ She paused. ‘Did you send those letters, Mr. Anderson? If you did, and you didn’t start the fire, it would be sensible to tell me now. It would save us both a good deal of trouble. I can’t promise, but I expect you’d only receive a caution. But the arson is different. Whoever did that will be going to jail when we catch them.’

  ‘If you catch them, more like. And of course I didn’t send them. What do you take me for?’

  ‘But you were angry with Mr. Perkins?’

  ‘He’s a thief, no better than an opportunist thief. He picked his time. So aye, I’m angry, with him and p
lenty more besides. Who’s going to look after my customers now? Not some bloody cowboy on the internet, that’s for sure. This country’s going to the bloody dogs, and that little mongrel is one of the worst of the lot.’

  Jane tried not to smile, but she’d rarely seen anyone become quite so visibly angry quite so quickly. She couldn’t see Anderson sending threatening letters. He didn’t have the patience for it.

  ‘So did you confront Perkins about what he’d done? I read your emails to him, and they were pretty angry.’

  ‘Aye, but there’s no law against that, is there? Of course I was angry. But no, I haven’t seen him again, not since the day he turned up in a van and took my stock away.’

  Jane made a note. ‘So you don’t think that perhaps you’re blaming Mr. Perkins for what happened to your business? You know, transferring your anger?’

  Jane realised immediately that she’d said the wrong thing, and instinctively she reached for her bag.

  ‘What are you, a copper or a bloody psychiatrist? I told you, the man’s a bloody thief, that’s why I was angry. Now get out of my house, and don’t come back. I’m pleased that someone has burned all his stock, and I hope he goes bankrupt. He deserves it. Now what are you going to do, bloody arrest me?’

  Five minutes later Jane was in the deli, thinking hard about which kind of olives to buy. And she spent most of the drive back to the station deciding how she’d lay the kitchen out in Anderson’s house. The old fool had it all wrong.

  Thursday, 27th June

  Jane hadn’t talked about work the previous evening, and neither had Andy. But as they drove into work that morning she said that she needed ten minutes to chat through the Perkins arson case, and Hall hadn’t hesitated, not even for a moment, before he agreed. She’d heard that the Bell case was pretty much becalmed, and she knew that Hall would be trying to come up with a way of getting it moving again, so she appreciated the fact that he didn’t even think about trying to put her off. But, she thought as they drove, he’d probably seen her question coming anyway, and had thought about his own response in advance.

  When they got to the office Hall made a round of teas, had a quick chat with Ian Mann, and then he and Jane sat at the meeting table in his office.

  ‘So how’s the Perkins case file looking then, Jane?’

  ‘Thin. His customer files turned up bugger all. No disgruntled punters living locally, and I had a few with records checked out by other forces. They’ve all reported back, and drawn a blank. But I did look at a couple of the people he’s bought stuff from, because a few are local, and larger sums were involved as well.’

  ‘Good idea. Anything?’

  ‘I’m not sure. One of the vendors has moved away, possibly abroad, so I’m counting him out for now. I’ve talked to two other local men, one in Kirkby Lonsdale, an older chap, seemed harmless enough. And there’s one other, up in Penrith. Bit of a temper on him, but he doesn’t seem likely either.’

  ‘OK, Jane, so tell me this. Have you spotted any emails, from anyone at all, that match the style of that letter?’

  ‘No, none of them do.’

  ‘Have you seen all of Perkins’ complaints?’

  ‘He says I have, but I can’t be certain. He sent over the ones he could find.’

  ‘Doesn’t want us poking around on his computer, eh? A surprisingly wise decision.’ Hall thought about it for a moment. He picked up his mug, and put it down again. ‘So here’s an idea. Why not take a few phrases from the letter and ask Perkins to search his entire email trail, looking for any of them, in all or in part? We all have stylistic tics, so you might get lucky.’

  ‘Nice one, Andy. I’ll try that. That way we get access to his whole email trail, without him sharing it with us. I’m not sure how helpful Perkins will be when I ask, of course, the little prat, but it’s worth a shot.’

  ‘How about the other fire? Is there any connection with Gary O’Brian, do you think?’

  ‘Very unlikely, I’d say. As far as I can see there’s no connection between them at all. And there’s no forensic link either. Like I told you, Gary had the bloody lot cleared away sharpish.’

  ‘Yes, and I’ve been thinking about that. It is out of character, like you said, but maybe he is concerned about his kids. In his situation I’d have done just the same, when my kids were small. What was left of his garage after the fire was unsafe, I take it?’

  ‘I think it was unsafe before the fire started.’

  Hall laughed. ‘Point taken. And Perkins has had no more letters, nothing to concern us?’

  ‘No, nothing. Are you thinking of bringing me back onto the Bell killing?’

  ‘Part-time, yes. Capstick’s obviously involved, but he’s showing no sign of cracking.’

  ‘I thought you said he was weak?’

  ‘He’s that all right, but it’s the old story. He’s more frightened of someone else than he is of us. And probably with good reason. The Super is going to go mental when she sees what I’ve spent on this investigation already, and it’s only a matter of time before she tells me to scale it back. So I just need something to happen. We’ll turn up no forensic evidence, because I’m certain that Capstick wasn’t a shooter, and the locus is a total wash-out, pun intended. And given that our drugs team seem to know nothing about anything very much we’re unlikely to be able to work back at this from the other end. And in fairness, it might not even be drugs anyway. So all we can do is hammer away at Capstick, and try to find his local connection. I’m convinced there is one. Has to be.’

  ‘That’s a bit assumption, though, isn’t it?’

  ‘Colossal, and Val Gorham will know that. So we’ll need to get round all Casptick’s KAs as fast as we can, before she pulls the plug.’

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘The Super pulling the plug.’ Hall still didn’t smile. ‘When I was a little kid I asked my dad where the water went when the tide went out, and he said down a plughole.’

  ‘Not everything our parents tell us is true though, is it?’

  Ian Mann was looking forward to seeing Pete Capstick again. He doubted that the feeling was mutual.

  ‘Do you want Geoff Atkinson there or not?’ Hall had asked, and Mann hadn’t hesitated.

  ‘No, just me and Ray.’

  To his surprise Hall had just nodded agreement, and Mann wasn’t complaining about that. Because the earlier that they got away and on their way to Flookburgh the sooner they could put the pressure on Capstick again.

  Mann drove, because he didn’t want to dawdle along at Dixon’s economy run pace, and they talked about the case as they drove.

  ‘How do you want to play it today, Ian?’

  ‘Bad cop, worse cop.’

  ‘Seriously, mate? I was thinking about a change of strategy. You just be yourself, and I’ll be like keeping the beast, that’s you obviously, in check. Try to chummy up to him a bit. You know, be his best mate for an hour. Atkinson won’t be there this time, so there’s definitely a vacancy.’

  Mann laughed dryly. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t think that Capstick is in on this? There’s no doubt, mate. I hate this kind of job, when we know bloody well that someone’s dirty, and we can’t touch them for it.’

  ‘Of course he’s dirty. But he couldn’t be more out of his depth, could he? The boss is right. Capstick got mixed up in something he didn’t understand. He never intended for Bell to be shot. Of course he didn’t. And we’ve tried pressurising him, with the one bit of real evidence that we’ve got, and it got us nowhere.’

  Mann grunted.

  ‘And could we stop at the bakers in Grange, mate?’ added Dixon. ‘I could murder a steak pie.’

  ‘At this time in the morning? All right, as long as you don’t eat it in my car. I don’t want bits of your half-chewed pastry on the carpets, and the bloody smell of your gravy to be hanging about for weeks.’

  ‘Fair enough. I like a bit of al fresco dining, me.’

  ‘Let’s ho
pe this weather lasts until you’ve retired then, Ray. You’ll be doing nothing else.’

  ‘Aye, exactly, that’s what I’m afraid of. But I’m still hoping that they might keep me on.’

  ‘Really, mate, is that wise? I’m sure that everyone, from the Chief downwards, would like nothing more than to have you with us until you’re ninety, but they haven’t got a bloody penny. Some good coppers have been made redundant, mate, so maybe it’s time to count your blessings, eh?’

  Dixon nodded sadly. ‘I’ll certainly have the time for it.’

  Geoff Atkinson was out of his house before Mann even had a chance to get the handbrake on.

  ‘Look out’ said Dixon, ‘guess who’s here.’

  ‘All right, Geoff’ said Mann, swinging open his door.

  ‘All right, boys? He’s in all right. Got back from the pub at about one.’

  ‘Thanks for the heads-up.’

  ‘Shall I come in with you? Might help keep him calm, like.’

  ‘No mate, you’re all right. The boss asked us to take this one on our own.’

  ‘Change of tack, is it?’

  ‘Aye, that’s right. Try to change things around a bit.’

  ‘So no new developments, then?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Just asking, Ian. I’ll leave you to it then.’

  ‘Aye, great, thanks. We’ll come and knock after, maybe have a brew.’

  ‘I might not be in.’

  ‘Of course not. Don’t stay in on our account. But we’ll knock anyway, all right?’

  When Atkinson had gone back into his house and closed his front door, Ray Dixon knocked on Capstick’s door. They expected a long wait, but this time there wasn’t one.