Pale Horse, Dark Horse (The Lakeland Murders)

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Pale Horse, Dark Horse (The Lakeland Murders) Page 11

by Salkeld, J J


  Gorham smiled, and her tight bun moved slightly on her head. Hall found it slightly disconcerting.

  ‘There won’t be any need for that, Andy. Let’s record him as having mixed Traveller/settled identity, and see if that sticks. It would certainly help me out, but as to more people, I’m afraid that’s out of the question. Absolutely not going to happen. Anyway, now for the good news. Tell me how the investigation is proceeding. I expect you’re making huge strides, now that Morrow has been identified.’

  ‘Sadly not, ma’am. Unless we get a break of some kind I expect this to be a slow, difficult investigation.’

  ‘Really, Andy? But your track record is so good. I thought you and the team would really be kicking on now.’

  ‘Past performance is no guide to the future’ Hall replied, smiling. ‘And mean reversion is always a possibility.’

  ‘I’m sorry, you’ve lost me.’

  ‘Sorry, ignore me. Well, what I should have said is that there are complicating factors, ma’am. The murder took place twelve months ago, it seems highly likely that Morrow was involved in criminal activity, possibly alongside or in competition with elements of the Traveller community, and he was averse to using the internet. He hardly even used a mobile phone, dealt exclusively in cash except for his benefit payments, and I think it’s fair to say that he died a Twitter virgin.’

  ‘I see. And you think that the Traveller community will play a part in the investigation going forward?’

  ‘I do, ma’am. It’s absolutely inevitable, and without any preconceptions it has to be fairly likely that his killer is a member of the community. One hypothesis is that he was involved in an illegal gambling operation, possibly as some kind of enforcer.’

  ‘I know I don’t have to say this, but you will be very careful, won’t you Andy? I’m not asking you to pull any punches, or to alter the shape of your enquiry in any way, but I am asking you and your team to ensure that all our processes are followed to the letter, and that no later investigation casts doubt on the impartiality of your work. We mustn’t be open to any accusations of stereotyping.’

  ‘Understood, ma’am. I don’t think we need have too many fears in that respect, but I will keep an eye on it. And in terms of where we are in terms of developing leads on the Morrow murder I’d say that we’re not very far forward at all. It does look as if his earnings increased significantly in the period before his death, based on what witnesses have told us, but as I said his bank account is not much help. So it looks like a long slog, trying to piece together the last months of his life. But on the positive side we can place him here, in Cumbria, immediately before his death, so that should be a big help, especially if he never returned to the north east after the Fair last year. And, as things stand, that looks favourite.’

  ‘What’s your next move then?’

  ‘I think we’re going to have to spread our effort, and not back any particular horse at this stage, to continue with the racing metaphor.’ Gorham didn’t smile, but then Hall didn’t really expect her to. ‘So for now we’ll try to focus on Morrow’s last visit to Cumbria. What did he do, who did he see, how did he get around? I’m going to get the whole team walking the Fair, talking to anyone who’ll talk to us, and see if we can put some flesh back on the bones. And I’m going to pay another visit to Tommy Faa up at the Horse Fair. We haven’t got long, because they’ll all have moved on in a couple of days.’

  ‘And you’ll be conducting that interview yourself?’

  ‘I will, ma’am.’

  ‘And I can count on you to be tactful, and culturally sensitive?’

  ‘It’s my middle name, ma’am. My parents were very politically correct, and way ahead of their time, you see. David or Graham would never have been enough for them.’

  Val Gorham pursed her lips. ‘Keep me fully informed, Andy.’

  DS Ian Mann and DC Ray Dixon left for Appleby straight after the team meeting.

  ‘Do you reckon they’re straight, these publicans?’ asked Mann as he drove.

  ‘With the way the licensed trade is these days? What do you think? They’re bound to be at it, one way or another.’

  ‘So I take it you’ve given up on the idea of running a little pub when they finally kick you out of the job, then?’

  ‘Aye, years since. It’s just a fool’s game these days, isn’t it? What with the cheap booze in the supermarkets, no wonder so many pubs are closing.’

  ‘True enough. And it always surprises me that so many coppers still go and run pubs when they leave the job anyway. You’d think they’d have had their fill of dealing with drunks, and all the stupid things they do, every sodding day of their working lives.’

  ‘I’ve been in CID for twenty five years though, Ian. It’s years since I’ve had sick on my shoes.’

  Mann laughed.

  ‘So you reckon that these two will play fair with us then, even if they are fiddling the books a bit?’

  ‘Probably, aye. They’ve got their licence to think about, and they don’t want us dissing them in front of the magistrate, do they?’

  ‘I suppose not, but I think we should be cautious, even so. It’s just what they said about binning his stuff after he never came back, his wash bag, all that. What if he left other things, valuable stuff, and they held on to them, then helped themselves when they knew he wasn’t coming back? That wouldn’t surprise me.’

  ‘What sort of thing might he have left behind?’

  ‘There wasn’t a mobile phone on the body, was there? And it can’t have been nicked, not really, because whoever shot him didn’t even bother to nick a four grand gold necklace. Melt that down and it’s as good as cash, so why wouldn’t you steal it if you topped him? Nice little bonus, I’d have thought.’

  ‘OK’ said Dixon, ‘so let’s assume you’re right. Let’s assume that mine host, or his missus, helped themselves to Morrow’s phone. Other stuff too, maybe. Why not just drop that in at the end of the interview? See how they react.’

  ‘Aye, that’s one way. Give them the stare and more or less accuse them. But I bet they’d deny it, and they’d probably clam right up on us. It lacks subtlety, does that, Ray.’

  ‘It’s not my strong point, to be fair, is subtlety. So how would you handle it then, DS bloody smartarse?’

  ‘I’d ask if they’ve got an online auction account, and see how they react.’

  ‘You what? Oh, I see, you think they might have flogged the phone online, and mentioning that would tell them that we’d be checking. That’s not bad, to be fair. But the traditional way is still better.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Think about it for a second, Ian. You’ve been a copper since before the railway came to Kendal, same as me, so you know where knocked-off stuff used to get sold on, back in the days of car cassette decks and Betamax.’

  ‘Aye, in pubs.’

  ‘Well then. If the landlord wanted to flog a knocked-off phone why not sell it to a regular in the pub? Nothing simpler. I suppose we’ve pinged it to see if it’s active?’

  ‘Aye, the tech team have done that. Nothing so far. And I suppose you’re right, the old way it is. And I might be wrong, the two of them might be as clean as my car.’

  ‘No-one is that clean. It wouldn’t be natural. Tell you what, how about we stop at a baker so I can pick up a pie? Cover the smell of your air freshener. I could get you one too, like.’

  ‘Not on your life, Ray.’

  But Ray didn’t go hungry, because John Carter offered them food as soon as they were standing at the bar. Mann said no, and just sipped away at his mineral water, but Dixon tucked into a pie as they talked.

  ‘How much do we owe you?’ asked Mann pointedly, when Ray had finished his food, gesturing at Dixon to pay.

  ‘I don’t think there’s anything else we can tell you’ said Carter, when he returned with Dixon’s change. ‘We certainly haven’t remembered anything since we gave our statements.’

  ‘Could you ask your wife to join us?’
asked Mann.

  ‘She’s really busy in the other bar’ said Carter, but then he looked at Mann’s expression and changed his mind. ‘Joy’ he shouted, ‘could you come through here a minute?’

  Joy didn’t look pleased, especially when she saw who was waiting for her in the other bar.

  ‘You again.’

  ‘Yes’ said Ian Mann, showing his Warrant Card. ‘We understand that you’re busy, but this is a murder enquiry, and as of now you’re the last people we can find who saw Cliff Morrow alive.’

  ‘So that’s his real name?’ said Joy.

  ‘Yes. Now I need you both to think back for me. Did Cliff Morrow come by car?’

  ‘No, not as far as I know. I assumed he got a lift or something. He certainly didn’t complain about the parking, which makes a change come Fair time.’

  ‘That’s fine. We didn’t find a car key on him, and there’s no record of him owning a car, so that fits. But how about visitors, people he met? Maybe down here in the bar. Was there anyone?’

  John Carter shook his head. ‘I didn’t see him with anyone.’

  ‘How about you, Mrs. Carter?’

  ‘I can’t be sure, but I think I might have seen him with a group of lads, the night before he disappeared.’

  ‘Can you remember anything about them?’

  ‘Not really. They were gypsy types, you know, Travellers. But I don’t remember anything about them. The place was packed, like.’

  ‘How many were there? One or two? More?’

  ‘Just a couple I think, maybe three. I’m sorry, it’s a long time ago and I only got a glimpse. I didn’t serve them.’

  ‘Do you know who did?’

  ‘One of our temps from last year. I couldn’t tell you which one. They’re probably all back in Poland by now anyway.’

  ‘OK, not to worry. How about conversations you had with him, over breakfast, when he checked in, anything like that. What did you talk about?’

  ‘I took his money and showed him his room’ said John Carter. ‘I don’t remember him saying much at all. I think we talked about the Fair, but you’d expect that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘So what exactly did he say?’

  Carter thought about it. ‘That he was looking forward to seeing some old friends, something like that. I remember I thought he must be a Traveller himself, like.’

  ‘Did he say if he’d been to the Fair before?’

  ‘I don’t remember exactly, but I have a feeling that he did, yes. But I don’t remember why, it’s just an impression.’

  ‘OK, so how about later on? Did he talk about anything else, to either of you?’

  They both shook their heads.

  ‘Is there anything else that you remember about Cliff Morrow? Anything at all?’

  They both shook their heads, and Mann let the pause extend. Ray Dixon took his time before speaking.

  ‘We know about his phone. I need to remind both of you that this is a murder enquiry, so you need to tell us now what happened to it. You won’t be in any trouble if you tell us now. But if you don’t tell us, then you’ll find yourselves mixed up in a pretty heavy enquiry, and it could cost you a lot more than your pub, I’ll tell you that for free.’

  And when John Carter glanced briefly across at his wife both officers knew the truth.

  ‘All right’ said Joy. ‘After a few months, when he didn’t come back I did sell it, but we had tried to contact him lots of times, hadn’t we, John?’

  ‘Oh aye. Lots of times.’

  ‘But how did you do that, if you had his phone?’ asked Mann. ‘Did you have another number? An email address? Something like that?’

  Joy frowned. ‘All right, maybe we didn’t. But we kept it for ages in case he came back. And he didn’t, did he?’

  ‘So who did you sell it to?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘Not good enough’ said Dixon, firmly. ‘Now you really have got another thirty seconds to tell us everything you know about that phone, or you’re both going to be having a nice ride back to HQ in a Police van.’

  ‘All right, it was Billy Wilson. He lives here, in town. But I know he hasn’t got it anymore. He dropped it in the river while he was fishing a month or so back. He told me.’

  ‘Bugger. Well, we’ll need his details anyway. What about the SIM card, Morrow’s one, what happened to that?’

  ‘I binned it, before I sold it.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Oh yes, I’m sure.’

  ‘And did you keep anything else that had belonged to Mr. Morrow? Was there anything else that he never came back for?’

  ‘No’ said Joy, firmly.

  ‘All right. But let me make this clear. If we leave here now, and later on it turns out that what you told us wasn’t true you will be arrested, and you could face very serious charges indeed. Is that quite clear to you both?’

  When they left the pub Mann and Dixon joined members of the investigative team out on the streets of Appleby, amongst the crowds on the side of the river, and up on Fair Hill itself. And just like all of their colleagues, they ended their shift with mud on their trousers and not a single certain sighting of Cliff Morrow. They’d found Billy Wilson too, and he confirmed the Carter’s story about the phone.

  ‘Where’s Jane then, Ian?’ said Dixon, as they walked back to the car in the rain. ‘I thought the boss said that we needed to find out everything we can about Morrow’s time at the Fair, and that it was all hands to the bloody pumps.’

  Mann didn’t reply.

  ‘Come on, Ian. I’m not shit-stirring, but it’s not on, is it?’

  This time Mann laughed.

  ‘Not a shit-stirrer, you, Ray? I am a copper you know, mate. I do know what you’re trying to get me to say here. But we do have other investigations going. We don’t just drop everything when a body turns up. She’s probably following up on something, that’s all. Nothing to see here, move along please.’

  ‘Maybe, but you do know what she’s on with? Something and bloody nothing, if you ask me.’

  ‘Well I’m not asking you, Ray. And I’m sure the boss knows what he’s doing.’

  ‘If you say so, mate. I just wonder if DS Jane Francis doesn’t get a bit in the way of special treatment, both at work and outside, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Leave it out, Ray. Andy’s a fair bloke. Since he and Jane shacked up together I’d say she gets more of the shitty end of the stick than before.’

  ‘Maybe, but Jane’s got friends in high places. From the sisterhood like.’

  ‘You mean the Super? You’ve got that all wrong, my old marrer. The only person that Val Gorham looks after is Val Gorham. Jane may be flavour of the month at the moment, but that could change in a heartbeat, you mark my words.’

  ‘Maybe, Ian. But we’re the ones who’ve just spent the whole day slogging through mud talking to people who are all wishing that one of their horses would kick us in the nuts. It was a total, complete and utter waste of Police time.’

  ‘Stop complaining, you old fart. You’d be in your armchair watching daytime TV now if you’d gone when they tried to retire you.’

  ‘So you’re saying this is all my own fault?’

  ‘I am. And one other thing. If you get so much as a speck of mud on my seats you will wish that you had retired when you had the chance, Ray.’

  But Jane Francis was out in the rain as well. She’d reported back to Andy Hall, catching him between team briefings, and they’d discussed the strategy on the Bose assault.

  ‘I definitely want to keep at it, Andy. I said I’d think about it, and I have. It’s the right thing to do, I know it is.’

  ‘So one of the passengers in the local cars was Ian’s older brother, Phil?’

  ‘Yes, he was with the sleazy bloke. Should I talk to him, do you think?’

  ‘Possibly. But do me a favour and get the details of the passengers in the out of area cars first, OK? Have them checked out before you do anything else. I ag
ree that it’s more likely to have been someone who knew the area, but one of those tourist cars could have a second home in the area, or visit four times a year. So let’s not assume anything here.’

  ‘OK, point taken. I’ll do that, and then I’m going to nip over to the Ferry. I haven’t been on it for ages.’

  ‘Fine. Detach yourself from the Morrow enquiry for the rest of the day, but if we do get a development, Jane, then I may need to call you back in.’

  Jane knew that it would have taken most of her colleagues the rest of the shift to laboriously type up and send out requests to all of the Forces where the other drivers lived, but then she didn’t type like a Policeman. She used all her fingers, and typed fast and accurately. So less than two hours after she’d talked to Hall she was parking her car, and walking down to Ferry Nab. It was raining steadily, and the clouds were so low they seemed to be brushing the masts of the yachts out in the Bay. There weren’t many people about, and there wasn’t a queue for the ferry.

  When she arrived she could see that it was on the far side of Windermere, and the headlight flashes told her that cars were driving on. It was so dark that it felt like dusk, and she stood and watched as the ferry approached. It seemed to take a long time, and Jane tried to calculate how many raindrops fell on the surface of the lake during the course of the crossing. She liked doing sums in her head, but even though she stared at a patch of water for a minute or so she couldn’t tell how many raindrops were falling. But what she did know was that the water was starting to seep through the seams on her jacket’s shoulders.

  She watched the steel line go taught as the ferry approached, and then as the cars streamed off. There were only ten on this trip. She walked on to the ferry, and when the cars were loaded for the trip to the west side of the lake she badgered one of the two crew members.

 

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