Peter Diamond - 09 - The Secret Hangman

by Peter Lovesey

  After a long hesitation he found words. ‘Looks like it to me.’

  ‘What do you reckon? Twenty-five feet?’

  ‘Thirty, more like.’

  ‘Enough, anyway.’

  They were looking at two lengths of white plastic cord, loosely coiled. The last time they’d seen anything like that, it was tight round Jocelyn Steel’s neck and she was hanging from it.

  43

  Of all his colleagues, Diamond least wanted to see Georgina when he returned. At this time in the evening she should have been off the premises, singing her socks off in some rehearsal hall. Instead she stood with a commanding view of the staff car park at the back of the nick. The bust that wouldn’t be ignored was straining the silver buttons again. No way could anyone slide past and pretend she wasn’t there.

  ‘You’ve got things to tell me, Peter,’ she boomed.

  ‘Not really, ma’am,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit premature.’

  ‘But you arrested a man for the murders. They brought him in twenty minutes ago.’

  ‘On suspicion.’

  ‘He’s the killer, though?’

  ‘Put it this way. I want the truth out of this scumbag before it’s too late.’

  ‘No violence, Peter.’

  ‘We haven’t found Martin Steel. His chance of survival is running out minute by minute.’

  ‘I’m serious about that.’

  ‘I thought it was one of your choir nights tonight.’

  ‘It is, but I’ve sacrificed it. What have you got on this man?’

  ‘Can I tell you later? There’s a heap of work to be done, people to see, things to check.’

  ‘Be mysterious, then,’ she said, pink with annoyance. ‘Personally, I’ve always believed in holding nothing back.’ Her chest swelled even more.

  Diamond averted his eyes.

  ‘Things have been happening here,’ Georgina went on. ‘I’ll walk upstairs with you and fill you in.’

  ‘If you like.’

  She made just enough space in the doorway for him to ease past without physical contact. For a moment they were toe to toe and he had a memory of the ladies’ invitation waltz at Jim Middleton’s tea dance with little Annie steering him with her thighs. With practice he might take to ballroom dancing. Maybe Georgina saw the look in his eye because she set off along the lower corridor as if pursued by a bear. He had to wait for the stairs at the end before she spoke again. ‘This afternoon it was all Harry Lang.’

  ‘At this stage I’m ruling no one out.’

  ‘And he ended up in hospital.’

  ‘His own fault, ma’am. Has he recovered consciousness?’

  ‘Allow me to finish, Peter. You’re like a coiled spring. He’s still too confused to interview, but the doctors are optimistic. Quite properly – and I give credit when it’s due – you ordered forensic tests on the Ballance Street flat and they are still going on. I can tell you that the early results are promising.’

  ‘Oh?’ She’d surprised him. He’d been on autopilot up to now. The evidence against Monnington had pushed Harry Lang way down the list of priorities. Now a sliver of doubt pierced his thinking.

  ‘Yes,’ she said in a throwaway voice, ‘the fingerprint team gave me a call. They lifted a mass of prints from the living room and kitchen area and some of these have been compared with the national database. They found three good matches.’

  ‘Anyone I know?’ Diamond said, trying to sound cool about it.

  ‘Two of them are cousins, little more than juveniles.’

  ‘From Kosovo?’

  ‘I don’t think so. They sound quite British to me. Craig Curly and Hugh Short.’

  ‘Or Short and Curly?’

  Georgina clicked her tongue and let out a sharp, angry breath. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose they could be made-up names.’

  He thought so, too. He wouldn’t mind betting they were also known as Romney and Jacob, those woolly extras in Operation Fleece. Someone in this scam had a twisted sense of humour. ‘You said there was a third?’

  ‘Gary Jackman, who runs a car repair business. He did a six-month stretch for changing the plates on stolen cars.’

  Young Paul Gilbert’s unreliable informer. Georgina had wandered into a minefield. How much did she know? ‘He’s known to us already. Pondlife.’

  ‘The point is, Peter, it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to tell us that Ballance Street was being used to plan robberies. We haven’t yet discovered Harry Lang’s true identity, but we now know why he took flight when you arrived with a squad car.’

  ‘You’re thinking these are the ram-raiders?’

  ‘It adds up, doesn’t it? Lang clearly has a source of money. He owns a good car. You don’t expect a council-house tenant to be driving a brand new Subaru.’

  ‘Ill-gotten gains?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m not against immigration. It brings this country many talented and decent people, but you’re going to get some crooks as well. Lang could be the ringleader. We can’t be certain until we question him. Meanwhile Gary Jackman will do for starters.’

  He swallowed hard. ‘You want to question Jackman?’

  ‘He’s waiting downstairs.’

  ‘What – have we pulled him in?’

  ‘On my authority. Don’t look so alarmed, Peter. I’m not taking over. Which of you is running the ram-raid inquiry now?’

  He had to think. ‘DI Halliwell, ma’am. He’s been helping me this afternoon, seeing that not much was happening on the ram-raid front.’ Halliwell knew Jackman was on the payroll. He’d handle this with kid gloves.

  Georgina drew herself up again. ‘Tell Mr Halliwell that when he can drag himself away from other duties he has the little matter of an interview to conduct.’ She swaggered off like the gunslinger who has just cleaned up the town.

  Clive the computer man was at work in the incident room when Diamond looked in. Halliwell had already handed him Dalton Monnington’s laptop.

  ‘Have you cracked the password?’ Diamond asked.

  ‘Working on it. What exactly am I looking for, Mr D?’

  ‘If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t have brought you in. A list of his clients would be good.’ He called across to Halliwell, ‘Did you fetch the plastic cords from Monnington’s car?’

  Halliwell held up an evidence bag.

  ‘Good. What we want now is the cord used to hang Jocelyn Steel. Should be in the evidence store. We compare them, of course, and if they’re similar we look at the ends and see how they were cut. If we’re really lucky they join like two halves of a loaf and bingo, we’ve got him.’

  ‘I’ll see to it, guv.’

  ‘No, you won’t.’

  Halliwell frowned. He wanted to be in at the kill. Deserved it.

  ‘Give it to DC Gilbert. I’m afraid the ACC has other plans for you.’

  So it was John Leaman who joined Diamond in interview room one and cautioned Monnington.

  The amorous sales rep was sitting with arms folded. His mouth was set in an inverted U-shape, defiance writ large. ‘I want my solicitor and I want to speak to him in private.’

  ‘Noted,’ Diamond said. ‘The custody clock has started. Let’s get this under way.’

  ‘Didn’t you hear? It can’t start without my solicitor.’

  ‘Sorry, my friend. You’re entitled to ask for your brief, and I’m entitled to delay him for up to thirty-six hours.’

  A glare. He didn’t know if Diamond was bluffing. He was in no position to find out.

  ‘Police and Criminal Evidence Act. I’ll confirm that in writing if you wish. At this stage I’m giving you a chance to earn some goodwill. Where can we find Martin Steel?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Don’t be awkward, Dalton. This is one life you can save. Where’s he being kept?’

  ‘I want my solicitor.’

  ‘I told you. You must wait.’

  ‘In that case, so must you.’

  ‘Is Steel dead already?’


  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Because if he isn’t and you cooperate, we can make this whole experience less uncomfortable. Do you smoke?’

  Monnington shook his head.

  ‘Coffee? Clears the brain.’

  Another shake of the head.

  ‘You see, this thirty-six hours allows us time to check the evidence. We’ve got DNA from your comb. We’re looking at your laptop. The plastic cord from your car boot is being minutely examined. It’s all over for you really.’

  Monnington didn’t look unduly worried.

  Inside, Diamond was seething. He turned to Leaman. ‘We’ve got a silent one, John. No point in running the tapes when nobody is speaking. Why don’t you turn them off for a bit?’ This was meant to alarm Monnington, and did, the more so when Diamond stood up and took off his jacket.

  ‘No,’ Monnington said. ‘Leave them running.’

  ‘Why? Have you got something to say?’

  ‘I’m protecting my rights.’

  ‘Stuff your rights,’ Diamond said, coming round the table.

  ‘What about the rights of that poor sod you’ve got trussed up in some godforsaken hole?’

  ‘You’re mistaken.’

  ‘Where is he, then? Sitting at home with his feet up? I don’t think so.’

  ‘I know nothing about this.’

  ‘Did you fit a jacuzzi at the Steels’ house in Midford? Jocelyn and Martin Steel?’

  ‘In point of fact, no.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Monnington. Let’s not split hairs. You may not have installed it, but you sold it to them. We found the invoice in their filing system. Give it a Whirl. That’s your company, right?’

  ‘It wasn’t a jacuzzi. It was a hot tub.’

  This, at least, was progress. He remembered the job. The link to the Steels was admitted.

  ‘Tell me the difference,’ Diamond said with an effort to be patient.

  ‘A jacuzzi uses an air system. Bubbles. A hot tub works on a different principle altogether, using jets of water.’

  Diamond glanced at Leaman. ‘The things you learn in this job.’ He went back to his chair and nodded to Leaman to resume the tape-recording. ‘So you don’t deny visiting the Steels to sell them their hot tub?’

  ‘Two years ago,’ Monnington said. ‘That was all of two years ago.’

  ‘We’re getting somewhere. You admit they were clients?’

  ‘That’s no crime.’

  ‘Taken together with your attempts to start a relationship with another of the victims, Delia Williamson—’

  ‘Relationship?’ he broke in. ‘I flirted with a waitress.’

  ‘Gave her your hotel room number. If she’d come knocking on your door as you planned, would you have let her live? You like them begging for it like Lottie Brown, don’t you? You’re a sexy devil. But you get nasty when they ignore you.’

  He looked away.

  ‘We’ve got your number, Dalton. You can’t take rejection. Killing them isn’t enough. You have to punish them, make an example of them by stringing them up. And when the boyfriends and the husbands come looking, they get the same treatment.’

  Monnington shook his head and said nothing. But his hands were shaking.

  ‘All right,’ Diamond said. ‘Let’s leave your twisted thinking for later. Where can we find Martin Steel?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘I told you, it’s over, Dalton. The killing is over. No way are you going to string this man up. Is he dead already?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Did you work with someone else? Are you trying to protect anyone?’

  Silence.

  ‘What do I have to do to get the truth? Will your partner Angie help us? You must have some regard for her, because she survived. We can pick her up and bring her here, but it’s a two-hour drive.’

  He shook his head again.

  ‘Don’t worry, she knows all about you and your playing around. I’ve spoken to her. I keep telling you, it’s common knowledge what you are. You’re finished. If you’ve got a shred of decency you’ll tell me where to find Martin Steel. That’s all I’m asking at this point. Tell me, and we’ll give you a break. You want some sleep tonight? You can get it.’

  Monnington sighed and looked up at the clock.

  Diamond made a grab for his hair and shoved his face hard against the table.

  He yelped, more in shock than pain.

  Leaman said, ‘Guv, don’t do this.’

  Diamond jerked the face upwards. ‘I haven’t marked him.’ With his free hand he slapped Monnington sharply on both cheeks. ‘This is pit-a-pat. I haven’t started. Stand up.’

  Monnington obeyed. He’d gone dead white, but red patches were forming on his cheeks.

  ‘Has anyone ever roughed you up?’ Diamond said, staring. ‘I mean really given you a workover?’ Without moving his eyes he said to Leaman. ‘Leave us alone for a bit.’

  Leaman said, ‘Guv, I can’t do that.’

  ‘It’s an order.’

  ‘I think he might be ready to talk.’

  In fact, Monnington was opening and closing his mouth without giving voice to anything at all. Then he fell back onto the chair and started making a series of animal-like sounds.

  ‘That’s all I bloody need. Hyperventilating,’ Diamond said. ‘Get him sorted.’ He marched out of the room.

  He met Ingeborg coming fast downstairs.

  ‘Guv.’

  ‘Out of my way.’

  She grabbed his arm. ‘Guv, I was coming for you. DI Halliwell needs you.’

  He’d sacrificed Halliwell for the ram raid. The bloody ram raid. ‘He can get stuffed.’

  ‘He says it’s personal.’

  ‘Does he want out? Is that what it is? You can tell him I want out as well, but it ain’t going to happen.’ He brushed her arm aside and marched on, he didn’t know where. He needed to cool the fire raging inside his head.

  She wasn’t giving up. She shouted after him, ‘He sticks up for you whatever anyone says and you treat him like shit.’

  He stopped and turned. ‘Would you care to repeat that?’

  She was white and shaking. ‘No, but I meant every word. People who toe the line get nowhere with you.’

  ‘You could find yourself in front of a disciplinary board.’

  ‘All right, but will you speak to Keith? I’ve never seen him so serious.’

  If Ingeborg was risking her career, something was badly wrong.

  ‘Where is he?’

  He found Halliwell in interview room two sitting across the table from a skinny young man with a shaved head. Gary Jackman was wearing a scuffed leather jacket flecked with paint. His hands were oil-stained. There was smouldering resentment in his brown eyes.

  ‘I’ll come out,’ Halliwell said.

  ‘This had better be good.’

  Out in the corridor, Halliwell was twitchy. He waited for a uniformed sergeant to get out of earshot. ‘Something came up in here, guv. He’s saying he was double-crossed by the gang, which is why our stake-out came to grief.’

  ‘Well, he would. He gave us crap information. If this is all you’ve brought me here for—’

  ‘No, listen,’ Halliwell cut in. ‘You recall that he runs this vehicle repair shop and does up stolen cars? He’s insisting the gang didn’t use the vehicles he’d worked on, except for the decoy. He says the getaway car they used for the raid in Westgate Street was a blue Nissan Pathfinder and the owner is the brains behind the raids, planned the whole thing and torched his own car up at Lansdown the same night.’

  Diamond’s shoulders twitched in a reflex action. How could this be true?

  44

  He recalled the heart-to-heart he’d had with Halliwell – blurting out his feelings about Paloma – on the drive back from the Ballance Street flat. My big mouth, he thought. This silly story about the ram raid could have been dealt with routinely, Jerry interviewed and cleared without anyone finding out who was dating his mother
. Instead Halliwell feels in honour bound to tell me about it and I’m in honour bound for Paloma’s sake to deal with it myself. What will that do for our relationship?

  Halliwell was backtracking fast. ‘Guv, I don’t believe Jackman. He’s giving us this bullshit to shift the blame.’

  ‘How does he know about the burned-out Pathfinder?’

  ‘He’s in the car-repair business. Spare parts. They can spot a dead one like vultures.’

  ‘Why would he make this up?’

  ‘He’s between a rock and hard place. He’s going to get hammered by the ram-raiders if he gives evidence against them, yet he owes us something for the fiasco the other night.’

  ‘So he fingers Jerry Kean, who has sod all to do with it? If that’s so, he’s an idiot. We check it out and find he’s lying. He’s worse off than before.’

  ‘Do you want to talk to him?’

  ‘Jackman? No, I don’t.’

  ‘Do we follow this up, or not? ‘ Diamond sighed, weighing the options. Absurd as the allegation was, it would have to be investigated. He looked at the time. ‘Leave this with me. I’ll get the truth of it.’

  ‘But you’re wanted here. The hangings.’

  ‘I said I’ll do it.’ He walked away, leaving Halliwell staring after him.

  Time was bearing down, but the questioning of Dalton Monnington had come to a temporary halt. How long did it take to get over a hyperventilation attack? Twenty minutes? Half an hour? Or longer?

  The other main suspect, Harry Lang, was still semiconscious.

  If there was a right time to see Jerry Kean, it was now. He took out his new mobile and called the only number in the directory.

  Paloma’s voice lifted his spirits, for all the awkwardness he felt. ‘Hello.’

  ‘This is Peter.’

  ‘Peter? How nice.’

  He was tempted to say not nice, not nice at all. Instead he asked if she knew where Jerry was.

  ‘Right here with me.’

  That simplified matters. ‘In your home?’

  ‘Sainsbury’s, as it happens, late-night shopping. Where it all started, really. Do you want to speak to him?’

  ‘I’d rather see him in person. It’s sort of . . . delicate.’

  ‘Where are you? Still at work? You’re overdoing it.’