by Salkeld, J J
Hall smiled, and nodded agreement.
‘So this is all down instinct is it, Jane? The classic copper’s nose? I thought you didn’t believe in any of that. ‘Old blokes’ clap-trap’ I think you’ve called it in the past. More than once, if I remember rightly.’
Jane laughed. ‘You’ve got me, I suppose. But it just worries me, someone taking the risk of getting into the back of someone’s car like that, in broad daylight with all those people around. It’s just such risk-seeking behaviour.’
‘And we all know where that leads’ said Hall, smiling. But Jane didn’t do the same, and Hall took the message.
‘So maybe it was a spur of the moment thing,’ he said, ‘and he got a scare and won’t do it again.’
‘You don’t believe that though, do you?’
‘Maybe not. Probably not. And that’s why you can and should take the time out of a murder enquiry to follow it up.’
‘And you’ll square it with Gorham?’
‘I will, and it won’t be difficult.’
‘How come?’
‘Let me see.’ Hall counted off on his fingers. ‘First, you’re the blue-eyed girl at the moment; second, sexual offences are on our target list again this month; and third, our victim is Asian. I think Gorham wishes that we’d have a sudden and unexpected influx of people from somewhere very far away, anywhere would do, just so we can get our numbers up in terms of clearances of crimes against minority groups.’
‘Fair enough, and thanks, Andy. I expect you’ll be in the good books as well if you put Morrow’s killer away, what with him being a Traveller and all.’
‘No, because he wasn’t really a Traveller, was he? That’s not what I’m hearing at all. And what if our killer is the one who turns out to be from the Traveller community? That would be a nightmare. I’d disappear under the weight of the bloody equality assessment paperwork. I tell you, Jane, if I believed in any deity more powerful than the Chief Constable I’d be praying morning and evening for our killer to come from the settled community.’
Friday, June 7th
If anything the traffic in Appleby was even worse today, and Hall, Mann and Annie Murphy didn’t say much as Mann negotiated the traffic in the centre of the town. This time Hall didn’t bother getting out of the car until they’d parked at the Police Station.
It was raining steadily, so they accepted a lift up to Fair Hill in a van that was heading up that way. The PC driving was an old-timer and he adopted the usual precautionary principle when a senior officer was present, especially a detective, and said as little as possible. Even when Ian Mann asked him how the Fair had changed over the years he treated the question with extreme caution. Hall didn’t blame him. Policing an event like this wasn’t easy at the best of times, and with all the extra sensitivities around Travellers being defined as an ethnic minority it made sense to be careful.
‘Do you look forward to policing the Fair?’ asked Hall, just before they climbed out of the van.
‘No. I bloody hate it, sir.’
Hall nodded and opened the door. For once he decided that asking another question would be an unwise decision. He just had an uncomfortable feeling that might get an honest answer.
Tommy Faa was waiting for them, and so were the lads outside the caravan. Hall smiled and said ‘hello’ as he passed them, while Ian Mann just returned their stares, and Murphy didn’t make eye contact.
‘I don’t think you should wait outside in the rain, DC Murphy’ said Hall. ‘Why not take cover in that van of ours I saw over by the gate? We’ll give you a shout if you’re needed.’
When they were inside Tommy Faa led them back to the lounge area, and they saw two men, both in their late fifties or early sixties, sitting on the other side of the table. They looked like brothers, but it seemed that they weren’t.
‘This is Billy Buckland and John Young’ said Faa. Neither man offered to shake hands, so Hall just nodded a greeting, which neither man reciprocated. ‘They both had dealings with Cliff Morrow.’
‘Thanks for sparing us the time’ said Hall, ‘it’s much appreciated. Before we start can you both give my sergeant your contact details, please?’ Young looked across at Faa, who nodded.
‘Thanks’ said Hall, when Mann had read back the details that the two men gave. ‘This shouldn’t take long. What I’ll do is ask questions, and if you could both answer that would be a help. OK, so when and how did you first meet Cliff Morrow? Mr. Buckland, you first.’
‘A few years back now, I was introduced to him by someone else.’
‘Who was that?’
‘He’s dead now. His name was Charlie Lovell.’
‘I see. And how about you, Mr. Young?’
‘I think it was Billy here.’
‘OK, so what kind of work did he do for you?’
‘This and that’ said Buckland. ‘He was a willing lad, like, and strong too, considering that he’d never been on the road.’
‘So what was the work? Labouring, was it?’
‘Aye, sometimes. He did a bit of security too, when we needed it.’
Hall decided to let that go, at least for now. ‘And how about you, Mr. Young?’
‘Much the same. A bit of everything, really.’
‘And did he ever get into any trouble, when he was working for either of you?’
‘How do you mean, trouble?’ asked Buckland.
‘Fights, anything like that.’
‘Maybe the odd scrap’ said Buckland, ‘nothing serious though.’
Hall decided on a change of tack.
‘What did you think of him, as a person? How about you, Mr. Young?’
‘He was all right. Like Billy said he was keen as mustard. Said he was from a Traveller family, going way back.’
‘And was he?’
‘Maybe. It’s possible. But then lots of people are. It doesn’t mean anything, not really. You might be yourself, did you ever think of that? Travellers have been here, in this country, for hundreds of years.’
‘So he was keen to join in with everything, is that it? Was he thinking about travelling himself?’
‘He kept talking about it’ said Buckland, ‘but then he kept talking about doing all sorts. You took no notice of him, after a while. He was a dreamer, was Cliff.’
‘What sort of things did he talk about?’
‘Thing’s he said he’d done, stuff he said he was going to do.’
‘Like what, exactly?’
Buckland and Young exchanged glances.
‘He said he’d sorted some people out, for someone he knew. Not a traveller, like.’
‘Sorted out how? Did he say?’
‘No, or if he did I wasn’t listening. I doubt any of it was true, he was just trying to impress us. That’s all it was. Like I said it was dreams, all talk.’
‘He was handy though’ said Young. ‘He could handle himself, in a fight. I remember, this one time, we had a bit of trouble, and a couple of my lads were getting a hiding off,’ Young paused, ‘this other lot. Anyway, Cliff got stuck right in to these other boys, he really did. Helped us out that day he did, and that’s a fact. And he was getting money from somewhere, I know that too.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘He wasn’t as keen to graft any more, and he took to wearing flash clothes. We saw him around though, and he always seemed flush. He bought a big gold chain off one of my lads, I do remember that.’
Mann reached into his folder and passed Hall a picture.
‘This chain?’
‘Aye, or one very like it.’
‘Do you know when this was?’ asked Hall.
‘No, a good couple of years back.’ Young turned to Faa. ‘When was the Fair when it was really hot, there was no rain at all?’
‘Year before last’ said Faa. ‘Not a drop of rain fell all Fair week.’
‘And Morrow would have paid cash for the chain, would he?’
For the first time since they’d sat down one of the Travell
ers smiled. In fact, all three of them did.
‘Oh aye’ said Young, ‘it’d have been cash all right. No card machines in a vardo, like.’
‘Is there anything you can add, Mr. Buckland? I’m especially keen on when Morrow came into this money, and where it might have come from.’
‘No, I can’t. I’d almost forgotten the bloke, truth be told. He wasn’t one of us, and when it comes down to it that’s what matters. So when we didn’t see him any more I can’t say I gave him any thought. Not until the other day, and you started showing his picture around.’
‘Do you think they were holding out on us?’ asked Mann, after they’d said goodbye to DC Murphy, collected Mann’s car, and were driving along the A66 towards Scotch Corner, heading for Northumbria Police HQ.
‘Possibly’ said Hall, ‘but I doubt it. Look at it this way. If Faa is the kind of slippery character that DC Murphy says he is then his best bet, if Travellers were involved in Morrow’s death, would be to just stonewall us, and play the ethnic minority card if we get too insistent. You know: harassment, stereotyping, all that. I’m not saying that he could stop us, but he could slow us down, and muddy the waters. And since Cliff Morrow obviously wasn’t what you’d call a good citizen he’ll know that the CPS will lose interest in this one pretty quickly if nothing happens. It’s not like Morrow will be missed, at least he hasn’t been so far.’
‘So you buy their story? A bit convenient, all that business about Morrow suddenly coming into money, and they don’t know where from, all that stuff. Faa could easily have cooked that up, just to throw us off the scent.’
‘He could have, that’s true, but it wouldn’t have been very wise. Because Faa knows how we work, he must do. He knows that we’ll be finding out all about Cliff Morrow, and if it turns out that no-one who knew him reckoned he’d come into money then he knows we’ll be back again, and soon. Faa must know that our stock in trade is being lied to. Lies are what take us forward, most of the time.’
‘How do you mean, Andy?’ Normally Mann wouldn’t have encouraged Hall to expound on one of his pet theories, but they’d be in the car for an hour or more yet. So he couldn’t see the harm.
‘I mean that our job isn’t to find the truth, it’s to find out which are the lies. Because that’s what leads to detections, discovering the things that people are trying to hide. I just reckon that Faa’s clever enough to know that, so he wouldn’t over elaborate.’
‘You want me to check out those two characters anyway?’
‘No need. I emailed Ray and asked him to give me a call back as soon as. Buckland and Young will have some form, I expect, so let’s see if it helps us work out what kind of muscle-work Morrow was doing for them. They weren’t exactly forthcoming, were they?’
‘Loan sharking?’ said Mann. ‘That’s what ran through my mind. Or protection, maybe?’
‘Both possible, and if they’re into that kind of stuff there’s more or less sure to be an intelligence file on one or both of them. Loan sharking has been targeted by almost all urban forces in the last year or two, and protection is serious, organised crime stuff. But actually I was thinking it might be something else.’
‘What?’
‘How about if they’re unregistered bookies? Trotting races happen during the Fair, or at least they used to because I went to one years ago, and there were loads of bookies about. So what if Buckland and Young are running an illegal bookies, maybe taking bets on bare-knuckle boxing or hare coursing or whatever?’
‘What about bear baiting?’ said Mann, smiling.
‘All right, point taken. Rural crime isn’t exactly my specialist area, I admit it. And I just can’t see the attraction of any kind of gambling, even the sort that’s advertised on the TV. It makes me nervous, that’s all’
‘But you play the stock market.’
‘I invest, Ian, that’s quite different. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. I invest for my family’s future, or at least what’s left of my family.’
It had been a while since Hall had mentioned his divorce, which Mann had taken as a good sign. So he did what came naturally to him, and drove on in silence. People said that it was good to talk about all that emotional stuff; but people were wrong.
Andy Hall made a couple of calls as they drove, and then Ray Dixon called back. Mann didn’t bother to try to piece the content of the conversation together.
‘That was interesting’ said Hall, when he’d rung off. ‘Not much form for either of them surprisingly; nothing that suggests any heavy-duty criminality anyway. But Buckland was a defence witness in an attempted murder case last year, involving his younger brother. He got off, but apparently it was all connected with illegal gambling. The investigation is ongoing, but no-one is saying a word, so it’s not going anywhere.’
‘Surprise, surprise. So you’re thinking that maybe that’s what Morrow was doing? Providing additional muscle to the debt collection arm of the business, something like that?’
‘It sounds plausible, possible anyway.’
‘So maybe that’s where the cash was coming from too. Maybe Morrow was nicking off the Bucklands, and they had him taken out. Faa might be being clever, trying to come up with some other explanation for Morrow suddenly having cash all of a sudden. He probably knows we’ll find out about it, so he’s trying to throw us off the scent right from the off.’
‘Possibly’ said Hall, thoughtfully. ‘But if that’s the case why would he have been killed where he was? We know it was very near where he was buried, so Morrow must have been there for a reason. And as far as we know Morrow had no connection with the area, no reason to be at or near Long Meg. Anyway, let’s talk to Northumbria about it. The Bucklands are on their patch, and they brought the prosecution against Lee, the brother, so they should be able to give us a good steer.’
Hall wasn’t sure that he liked DS Burdon. He seemed very sure of himself, while Hall had built his career, and much of his life, on hardly ever being sure of anything. But Burdon was young, probably barely thirty, and he talked fast.
‘I was right about Morrow’s flat, sir. Spoke to the landlord, and he said that he took possession a couple of months after Morrow stopped paying the rent, and skipped all his stuff.’
‘Really?’ said Hall. ‘Even things like a computer, laptop or tablet?’
‘The bloke says there wasn’t one. I asked about all that, specifically.’
‘Ian, do me a favour and call Ray Dixon. Ask if the landlord at that pub in Appleby saw a laptop when Morrow was there, would you? I’d say it’s unusual for someone of Morrow’s age not to have some sort of computer, even if it was just used for surfing for porn. Maybe they forgot to mention that he’d left it.’
Mann nodded, and left the meeting room.
‘So what about Morrow’s mates? What do we do know about them?’
‘Not much, they’re all small fry. They’d probably warrant an intelligence file over your way, I dare say some of them would, but not here.’
Hall let it pass. ‘Have you spoken to any of them?’
‘No. I thought you might like to choose who to visit first. None of them have jobs, so they’ll not be hard to find.’ Burdon fanned out four summary files with pictures on the table. Hall was still looking at them when Mann came back.
‘No laptop’ he said. ‘The children in data recovery are still trying to find out if Morrow even had an email address, but they say they don’t have much chance.’
‘OK, let’s leave that for now and decide which one of these to see. Morrow was 29 when he died, and he was brought up in Wallsend, correct?’
‘Dragged up’ said Burdon, ‘but yes, that’s right.’
‘OK then, let’s go for this one.’ Hall pushed the sheet back across the table.
‘Just out of interest, sir, why this one? He’s got less form than the others.’
‘He’s from Wallsend, and he’s thirty, so they may have been friends since childhood. And if that’s the case, he might actual
ly give a shit that his mate’s dead. So let’s go and pay this one a visit, but we’d certainly appreciate it if you’d follow up on the others, and use this interview as a pattern.’
Burdon was right, and Jimmy Walters was indeed at home. In fact he was still in bed. It was almost one o’clock, and Mann was getting hungry, so he didn’t enjoy watching Walters eat a bowl of breakfast cereal. Burdon went into the living room, and pulled the curtains.
‘Come on Jimmy. These officers have come a long way to talk to you. Don’t mess us about.’
‘Tell me about Cliff Morrow’ said Hall, when Walters was finally sitting in an armchair, and Hall and Burdon had sat down on the sofa opposite. Mann stayed in the doorway, notebook out. Walters glanced up at him occasionally.
‘Cliff? What’s he done then?’ said Walters.
‘I’m afraid he’s dead’ said Hall. ‘He was murdered.’
All three officers were watching Walters closely, and he was well aware of the fact. But he didn’t need to try to act a reaction.
‘Shit. Bloody hell. I wondered where he’d gone, we all did. But he was a man with a plan, was Cliff, and we just thought that one of them had come off, big style, and that he wasn’t interested in us anymore.’
‘What kind of plan had come off?’
‘Dunno. But he was certainly on to something, the last time I saw him. That’s all I know.’
‘He had money, you mean?’
‘Oh, aye. It was coming from somewhere. But I don’t know where, honest. Cliff wasn’t saying, which was unusual, I do know that.’
‘But he didn’t sign off the dole. Our records showed that he was signing on until about this time last year. May the 30th in fact.’
‘Oh aye, he was still signing on. Of course he was. He wasn’t a total idiot you know.’
Hall didn’t need to turn his head to know for certain that Ian Mann would be smiling at that.
‘So let’s talk about this money. When did you notice that he had more cash to spend?’