by Salkeld, J J
‘And have you seen or heard from Rupert Plouvin since he left for South Africa?’
‘I haven’t, no, but why would he want to contact the likes of me? He lives in, what’s the place called again? Cape Town, that’s it. Getting on very well, I hear. And the word is that the family had to pay him a pretty penny when he went, like. So I reckon he’s done all right for himself.’
‘And there’s nothing else that’s happened, as far as the Plouvins are concerned?’
‘Not really. Everyone knows that Christopher is, you know, a bit the other way inclined, and you don’t get a lot of that around here. Live and let live, that’s what I say, anyway.’
‘Another example of the gentry being different, is it?’
Brenda looked at Jane with her sharp, bird-like eyes. ‘If you say so, dear. All I know is that the family does a lot of good in this village, and all around. We won’t hear a word said against them, not round here.’
It was six o’clock before DS Jane Francis returned to Police HQ in Penrith. Her feet hurt, and she had a headache. The incident room was buzzing, and she could see that Andy Hall’s office door was open.
‘How did it go?’ he asked. ‘Don’t tell me. Take a pew and I’ll make us a brew first.’
Hall was gone for ten minutes, because he made a round for everyone still grafting on a Friday night, and Jane read over her notes.
‘We’re happy that the older brother did bugger off to South Africa, are we?’ asked Jane.
‘The self same question has crossed my mind, Jane. Apparently the brother hasn’t been back since, but we do know that the other two paid out two hundred and fifty grand to buy him a house, and a five grand a month payment has gone out every month for the last two years, regular as clockwork, to Rupert’s account over there. I got one of the DCs to contact the lawyer here and in South Africa, and both confirm that they’d met Rupert. It’s a tempting theory though, isn’t it? That the twins got Morrow to kill their brother for them, and then they killed him.’
‘That’s more or less what I was thinking.’ Jane was slightly disappointed that Hall was ahead of her, and had already given the idea some thought, but she tried not to let it show.
‘So any other skeletons in the family cupboard?’ asked Hall.
‘Not really, no. I’ll write it all up properly, but other than a few petty disputes and a bit of ill-concealed class-hatred I didn’t hear a thing that interested me all day.’
‘Shame, but I’m not surprised. Not really. We’ll have to hope that Ian and his merry band come up with something. He’s a glutton for punishment, and he’s volunteered to look at all the pictures from two years ago. There are bloody thousands of them, too.’
‘That’s keen.’ For the first time that day Jane wondered if she’d have been better off being the one who stayed in the office.
‘It is. But going back to what we were talking about before. I suppose it might be worth us making contact with Rupert Plouvin direct, just to make absolutely sure that he’s alive and well’ said Hall.
‘You want me to get a number for him?’
‘Yes, but not from the Plouvins. Ask the lawyer. And try to make sure it’s via a video-conference link. If we’re going to check we might as well make properly sure.’
‘You want me to do it now?’
‘No way. It can keep ‘til Monday. I’m pushing off in five minutes, if you’re ready.’
‘No, you go, and I’ll be right behind you. Just a couple of things I need to clear up first.’
When Jane got back to her desk she knew what she had to do. She picked up the phone and called Rita Bose.
‘Have you made any progress, Jane? I left a couple of messages for you.’
‘I’d like to tell you I have, but I haven’t, not really. I know it’s nothing to do with you, but we’re all very tied up on the murder case that I mentioned. But I have to be honest, Rita, and tell you that even if I was sitting here twiddling my thumbs there’s nothing more I could do. There just isn’t any evidence to go on, I’m sorry to say. Even if the man who attacked you did get into your dad’s car on the ferry, and we can’t even be absolutely certain of that, we don’t have anything to help us identify a suspect.’
‘But he did get in on the ferry. He must have. I’m not a total idiot, Jane. And you know what, on the news the other day I heard that some old bloke had been arrested on suspicion of an assault going back almost forty years, but you don’t seem to be able to do anything about one that happened just a couple of weeks ago. I just don’t get it, I really don’t.’
Jane didn’t know what to say. ‘All right then, Rita, what would you like me to do?’
‘I’d like you to keep trying, Jane. And I’d like you to catch this man before he does something worse. That’s all I want you to do.’
‘I will keep trying, Rita, of course I will.’
‘You promise?’
‘Yes, I promise. Just give me a few more days, OK?’
Monday, 17th June
Andy Hall was still catching up on his email when Jane knocked on the frame of his open door. She was well into the room before he had even looked up. But he did notice that she was flushed. He sincerely hoped that she hadn’t fallen out with Ian Mann again.
‘Have you seen it, Andy? In the crime report.’
‘No, I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. What is it?’
‘Another sexual assault. It’s the man who attacked Rita Bose, has to be.’
‘What’s the case reference?’
Jane read it off her notepad and Hall looked up the details.
‘Female dog walker walking in the woods up behind Staveley, someone grabbed her from behind, got her on the ground, and the dog went for him. The bloke ran for it, and that’s about all we’ve got, looking at this. So what makes you think it’s the same man?’
‘It was a Saturday morning again, we’re talking about a location just a few miles from Windermere, and he grabbed her from behind.’
‘Yes, and he also ran off at the first sign of trouble. I wonder what kind of dog it was?’
Jane wasn’t sure if Hall was trying to make a joke, but she wasn’t laughing.
‘Come on, Andy, you’ve got to admit that this changes things. Our man is building up to something, I can feel it.’
Hall looked at the report. ‘No DNA taken from the victim’s clothing or person, no witnesses, and another very vague description.’
‘It could be Tim Williams though, that’s Phil Mann’s mate. The one I told you about.’
‘Come on, Jane, you know better than that. It could be almost anyone. Twenty five to forty five, medium height and build, dark clothes and short hair, which of course is brown.’
‘There was something about him, I’m telling you.’
‘But didn’t Ian’s brother tell you that neither of them left the car on that crossing? Why would he lie about something like that? I’m sorry, but that makes no sense at all.’
‘I just need some time on it, that’s all, Andy. Have a word with this new victim, see if I can make any connections.’
Hall took his time before he replied. That was unusual, and Jane knew what it meant. He didn’t often say no, but he was going to now. And here, at work, his word really was law.
‘I’m sorry, Jane, but no. I need you on the Morrow case, and even if we did nick someone for these two offences I wouldn’t be surprised if all they got was a caution. Assuming that both offences were committed by the same man, which is far from certain, I’d say, then we can be pretty sure that he’s not on the Register already, can’t we?’
‘Yes, I checked the Bose case against it. I can’t see any known sex offenders who fit the bill for these.’
‘Exactly. I had a word with DS Brown, who has to keep tabs on some of our least savoury customers, and she said that it didn’t sound like anyone she knows locally. And while I agree that there are worrying aspects to these offences, of course I do, the fact remains that if we remove the
assumed sexual motive they become very minor assaults.’
Jane jumped up from her chair, and it toppled over backwards. A couple of people in the office outside glanced up at the noise.
‘I can’t believe you just said that, Andy, it’s bloody outrageous. Only a bloke could have said that. When this man attacks again, and he will, you’ll be responsible, at least partly.’
Hall stood up too. As ever his expression was impossible to read, and when he spoke his tone was as calm as ever.
‘No, Jane, no officer is ever responsible for an offender’s behaviour, no matter how badly we execute our duties. They are. And I’m not in any way diminishing the seriousness of the offences that have already been committed, nor the risk that others might follow, but I’m afraid that we just have to be realistic here, Jane. A nasty little bastard, well known to both of us, is going to walk out of this very station with a caution this morning, even though he put a sixty year old woman in hospital after a dispute over who was due to be served next in a take-away on Saturday night. Apparently the woman is so frightened that she’s talking about moving away, although only when she gets out of hospital, of course. Now I know that wasn’t a sexual assault, but to be honest I’m not sure that matters very much to the victim, are you? Because from where I’m standing the outcome looks very much the same to me, a terrified woman who we have a duty to protect and aren’t doing. If I had my way the CPS would be charging him with GBH, and we’d be looking at getting him off the streets for two or three years. It’s the least he bloody deserves. And we all know that, because of this, he’s going to do it again. And again. And who’s to say that in two weeks, or two months or two years time he isn’t going to do something much, much worse?’
Hall looked steadily at Jane, but she didn’t reply.
‘And you know what the worst of if it is, Jane? It’s not that the likes of us know that we’re fighting a losing battle here, and that people like Jimmy Flynn won’t actually be taken off the streets until they do something really bad, something that really gets our attention at last. No, the worst thing is that he knows it too. I bet you the poor Inspector who gives him the caution this morning will spend half the time telling him to stop laughing, and to listen to what’s going on. We might as well be issuing the little bastard with an official get out of jail free card, because that’s what a caution bloody adds up to.’
Hall paused again, and Jane turned to go. ‘Wait a minute, Jane. Just to be absolutely clear on this. I don’t want you following up on this case from here, and I do want to know for sure that Rupert Plouvin is alive. That’s your priority. It has to be. OK?’
Jane didn’t reply, and Ian Mann looked up from his computer and watched her walk back to her desk. Mann had seen enough suffering in his life not to wish it on anyone, but he couldn’t help but smile as he went back to work. If anyone needing taking down a peg or two it was DS Jane Francis, and from the look on her face she’d just been placed very firmly back in her box by the DCI.
When she was back at her desk Jane tried to block what had happened out of her mind, and she tried to separate DCI Andy Hall, her boss, from Andy Hall, her partner. She didn’t manage to achieve it. So she did what she always did when times were tough, and she thought about work instead. Before she’d left on Friday she’d emailed Rupert Plouvin in South Africa, and he’d come back suggested that they talk on the phone that morning. He’d provided a mobile number, said that a teleconference was out of the question for technical reasons, and when she dialled the phone was answered almost immediately.
‘I wasn’t quite sure what it was that you wanted to talk about?’ His accent was English, and posh like the Plouvins. She couldn’t place him as northern, but then she couldn’t place where he came from.
‘I wanted to ask you about the circumstances that led to you leaving the UK. Can you tell me what happened?’
‘I’m sorry, but what business of that is yours?’
Jane really wasn’t in the mood. ‘It’s a simple enough question, Mr. Plouvin.’
‘Very well. My wife made it clear that she’d rather spend the rest of her life with my younger brother than with me, and I couldn’t face the thought of seeing them together. That’s the long and the short of it.’
‘But what about the children?’ asked Jane, before she could stop herself. There was a long pause.
‘Is there anything else that I can help you with, Detective Sergeant?’
Jane looked at her notes. He was right to knock her back like that, and she tried not to be annoyed by his response.
‘If I understand rightly, sir, your brothers funded your property in South Africa, and they now pay you a monthly allowance as well.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Could you confirm the amount, please?’
There was a pause. ‘No, I could not. That’s a private matter.’
‘Can you confirm that the amount is £5,000 per month?’
Another pause. ‘Very well. If I must.’
‘One final question. Your brothers have included a sum of cash that they paid to you, before your departure. Can you confirm that these monies were paid?’
‘Yes, for flights and things. It was just a few grand, if I remember rightly.’
‘And do you have any intention of returning to the UK in the near future, Mr. Plouvin?’
‘No, I don’t. I’m building a new life here, trying to start again, and the last thing I want to do is be dragged back home. So I do hope that you’ll respect my wishes, and leave me in peace.’
Jane rang off, wrote a quick email to DCI Hall summarising the content of her conversation, and then she drafted one to Superintendent Gorham. She re-read it twice before she sent it. It was the right thing to do, she was almost sure of it.
Ian Mann was already starting to regret suggesting that the team look at the pictures from Appleby Fair two years before, especially when he added up the overtime claims for the weekend. The returns on all that investment looked pretty thin too. Over five thousand files, from over two hundred different sources, had been run through the facial recognition software without a single hit. Not one showed Cliff Morrow or one of the Plouvin twins.
He sent the email to Andy Hall, then immediately followed it into his office.
‘Sorry, Andy, but it looks as if we’ll get nowt from that facial recognition scan.’
‘How many left to go?’
‘I’m not sure, but it’s not many now. So don’t get your hopes up.’
‘I won’t be doing that, don’t worry. I’ve spent most of this morning going though all the statements that we’ve had in from Morrow’s KAs. Almost fifty of them, and nine different Forces were involved in collecting them for us. I’ve just had one DCS from down south on the phone complaining that it had taken one of his DCs five attempts to track down one of Morrow’s Traveller mates.’
‘What did you say?’
‘Nothing. The bloke was just letting off steam about it, you know how it is. This one is turning into a bloody nightmare, I’ll tell you.’
Mann was tempted to ask about Jane, but he decided against it. ‘So did you get anything useful from any of the statements?’
‘Not much, no. Story of my bloody life at the moment. Morrow seems to have been popular enough, and his non-Traveller mates don’t even hint that he might have been in any trouble with them. The Travellers said bugger all, and only admitted to their own names after half an hour with the rubber hose. Or something like that, anyway. The only thing that does come through is that he did have more money, definitely, in the last year or so of his life. Five of the statements make reference to it, in one way or another. Two of them are from Travellers, too.’
‘So what conclusion do you draw from that?’
Hall shrugged. ‘That someone knew he had the money, in cash I don’t doubt, and killed him for it? That’s certainly possible, especially because we haven’t found so much as a fiver of it so far. Honestly, other than the bones down in the mortuary
it’s as if Cliff Morrow never existed.’
‘Someone covering their tracks? Cleaning up after the job? Professionals, maybe? That would explain a lot.’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? In a way I’d like that to be the case, even though it would be a whole new kind of nightmare for us, because at least it would fit the facts. But I asked Terry Hurst, a DCI I know from Newcastle, to go and see Morrow’s landlord himself. Terry reckoned that the bloke probably helped himself to a few personal bits and bobs of Morrow’s when he didn’t pay his rent, or return to his flat. Then he just skipped the rest, and never thought any more about it. Just another day in transitory plaza. But that’s it. Nothing suspicious at all. Terry didn’t reckon the bloke had robbed Morrow, or that anyone else had nipped round and cleared the place out either.’
‘So where’s the rest of this cash, then?’
‘Good question. I just have a feeling that it might have been gone before he died. I think Morrow might have been totally spent up by the time he died. After all, ten grand isn’t that much in this day and age. You just ask Ray Dixon, and he’ll tell you what it would have bought back in 1973.’
‘No thanks. So where next then, Andy?’
But Hall didn’t get the chance to answer, because one of the young civilians from the tech team almost fell in to the room.
‘Ian, we’ve got a hit. It’s a definite, I’ve just looked.’
‘Great’ said Mann, ‘Which one is it? Morrow or Plouvin?’
‘Both, it’s both. They’re together, in the same picture, like.’
Twenty minutes later the whole team, except for DS Francis, were gathered in the incident room. Andy Hall paced around as he spoke. Everyone could sense that this was something. At last, this was really something. Hall pointed at the large screen.