Chapter 9
Bathed in the early morning sunlight the CID room was quiet and tranquil this summer morning. Jackie Ward was sitting at her desk by the window with her head bent over some paperwork that had been awaiting her attention for several days, the big grey eyes screwed up in concentration and the short blonde hair messed up from the continual running of her fingers through it. Her tongue could be seen peeping out of the corner of her mouth making her look like a rather mature schoolgirl struggling with the maths exam paper.
Marcus Lomax was the only other occupant in the room and he was pretending to be checking through a statement, but in truth he was giving more attention to the way the sunlight was silhouetting his colleagues breasts through the thin material of her summer blouse. She spoke to him without lifting her eyes from her paperwork, her big boned, Scandinavian looking face showing her irritation.
“Marcus, if you have got nothing better to do than stare at my tits would you mind going and getting me some coffee. Its like a bloody greenhouse in here and my tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth.”
Lomax jumped and then grinned. The rotten bitch knew he fancied her like mad and delighted in playing hard to get, but he would get her in the end. He always did. Lomax was a little over six feet and good looking in a dark Celtic way. His accent had a trace of the Welsh valleys that no amount of elocution training had been able to eradicate. Since his arrival in Bristol some two months ago his success rate with the women police officers had been one hundred percent, until he had turned his attention on Jackie Ward. Here he had run into a brick wall. What he did not know was that the twenty-six year old detective had fancied him from the moment he had arrived. However, after she had watched him operate on the other WPC's for a few weeks, she had decided that she was not going to mix business and pleasure with this particular copper. It could only lead to heartbreak.
As Lomax left the room to go to the coffee machine she heard through the wood and glass partitioning that served as a wall, MacAllister arriving in his office next door. Although she could not see him over the top of the partitioning without standing, she saw the top two inches of the taller Lomax's head enter the office through the second door from the corridor and knew she would not be getting her coffee, arse licking had taken precedence. She signed the last of the hated paperwork and threw it into her out tray. Friday she was in court in the Alison Jenson case and she had better remind MacAllister about it. When he was involved with a murder case like the Morton case everything else left his mind.
She got up and went and knocked on the dividing door between the two offices. Now she was standing she could see through the upper glass section her boss's face and he did not look happy. She waited for him to notice her and then entered at his wave. She looked at the coffee in MacAllister's hand and then at the one that Lomax was drinking and suddenly she didn't fancy the big Welshman any more. Jackie didn't like arse lickers much. She contented herself with giving Lomax a look that would have withered grapes on the vine and then turned her attention to MacAllister.
“Morning, Guv. I thought I had better remind you that I am in court tomorrow on the Jenson under age sex case. You remember? The fifteen year old and the local rock band.”
MacAllister ran a weary hand across his brow.
“Christ, Jackie, I should have told you this two days ago. That case has been dropped. The CPS considered it against the public interest and the interests of the girl. Her grandfather, the Colonel, has reunited with his daughter now that the Sergeant Major has buggered of back to Scotland and I am given to understand he has been pulling strings like mad to keep this out of court and the papers. Sorry.”
Jackie didn't know whether to be glad for the girl or angry that she had just spent half the morning preparing for a case that had been abandoned. Compassion for the Jenson girl won out.
“That's all right, Guv, to be honest I'm delighted. I couldn't see any good coming out of dragging it all through the court in the first place if we were not going to pursue the rape charge. Better for the girl and everyone else if this one is allowed to just fade away, I reckon. Of course if I had known I could have spent some of that overtime the Commander is always moaning about, doing something useful, but I'm sure you will explain it to him.” Point made she relented. “How's the Morton case going?”
MacAllister scowled and Marcus Lomax looked away out of the window as if he wanted no part of such a question.
“He is still maintaining self defence and now he has seen a solicitor he is getting very cocky with it.”
Jackie looked surprised.
“What about all those broken car lights then. Does he say that was self defence as well or is he claiming someone else broke them?”
MacAllister waved a hand towards a spare chair and dug some change from his pocket. It was a measure of his disturbance that he was offering to pay for something as his reputation was that of a man who was more than a little careful with his money.
“Marcus, why don't you go and get some more coffees and I will take the pair of you right through it. I have a nasty feeling about this one and if we don't nail this little animal John Morton is going to be kicking holes in this police force for the rest of his life. That was his only son laying on the pavement with his head caved in.”
Jackie Ward smiled inwardly because without knowing it MacAllister had struck a blow for women's lib by sending the chauvinistic Lomax and not her for the coffee. She had seen the expression on his face when MacAllister had given him the money and she knew it would come back to comfort her the next time she was passed over for promotion to sergeant.
Lomax took two minutes to come back with the coffee and she took hers gratefully. It was foul, machine made stuff, but she was parched. She moved her chair back away from the hot sunlight streaming through the window and Lomax immediately got up and lowered the blind. Trust him to play the white knight, but she had his measure now.
Four minutes went by in complete silence, MacAllister seeming to have found something interesting in the bottom of his plastic cup so she tried to bring him back to the present. She crumpled her now empty cup and threw it across the room into a bin already more than half full of them.
“So what's the trouble then, Guv? What are you worried about? I thought we had a witness who had seen the whole thing?”
“Witness?” He shook his head doubtfully. “Gracie Blackmoor is seventy eight years old and doesn't have the best of eyes, but she did manage to identify Flinders in a line up and it was a really positive identification. That's not an issue the defence can, or will, argue with.”
Lomax now seemed to be finding something interesting about one of his finger nails so again she asked the question.
“What's the problem then?”
MacAllister snarled at her making her realise why Lomax had kept quiet.
“The problem, Jackie, is that she can't be sure if Morton was threatening Flinders with his jack handle or if he just still had it in his hand when he went to tackle him.”
He raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
“We know that the nice, red headed young man in the cells is going to claim self defence so Clive Sayers thought it as well to ask her if she was sure that Flinders just bashed him without provocation. Do you know what she said?”
Jackie didn't think he really wanted her to try and guess what Grace Blackmoor said so she just shook her head. MacAllister glared at her, the Kestrel looked burned upon his features.
“She said, and I quote because I can remember every bloody word, she said that Mr Morton was waving something about when he caught hold of the other man, but she didn't think he would have hit him with it. He was far too nice a man to go around hitting people and after all, his father is a Councillor.”
Jackie tried hard not to laugh, but she couldn't help it. The more she tried to stop it the more she laughed. Lomax moved away from her and made sure his own expression was carefully neutral. MacAllister glowered at her for a bit, but then he rela
xed and waited for her to recover.
“You can see why his brief is pushing him for the self defence bit. All right, he might have been a bit naughty by smashing a few car headlights with his hammer, but he wouldn't hit any one with it. Not unless he was frightened.”
He stared down at his desk.
“Trevor Morton was over six feet tall and well built, while Flinders is only five feet eight, even if he is built like a little gorilla. Think about it. Not difficult for the defence to sow the idea that Morton might have been more than a little angry when he saw what Flinders was doing and attacked him with the first thing that came to hand. In this case, a car’s jack handle.”
He stood up to leave. At the door he turned back into the room.
“I've got to go and try on my Morning Suit for the wedding or Jean will have my sweetbreads on a toasting fork. By the way, Jackie, it was you that had to go and tell the Wiltshires about their kiddie wasn't it?”
The Wiltshires had just lost a son to a perverted sadist that some well-qualified and socially aware person had let out of a mental hospital as cured.
“Me and Clive Sayers, Guv”
“Well the shrinks have just finished examining that animal that killed him. He will be sent to Broadmoor in the morning and I doubt if anyone will be silly enough to let him out again. I don't suppose that will be a great comfort to the Wiltshires though, do you?”
He picked up his jacket from behind the door and left. Marcus Lomax looked at her and shrugged and then he too stood up, shaking his head.
“You would never believe that his only daughter gets married in a few days time the way he carries on. His wife must forget what he looks like at times. Oh well. Better get on with some work then I suppose.”
Jackie Ward gave him an angelic smile.
“Why don't you say that to him then, Marcus?”
Lomax at least had the grace to blush and satisfied, she went back to her desk.
MacAllister had got no further than the main entrance when the desk sergeant called him. He went over to the desk with a look of resignation on his face.
“Is this important, Andrew?”
Sergeant Andrew Davies looked at him with the air of one who wasn't going to be hassled by a mere CID inspector with less time in than he had. Not after thirty-three years on the force.
“You tell me, Mac.”
He pointed out into the waiting area. The person he had indicated was in his early sixties and looked well nourished, but not fat. Sleek would have been an accurate description. He was expensively dressed in a dark blue woollen overcoat that would have cost the average copper a week’s pay and wore handmade black shoes, polished like glass. He was of medium height although he was made to look smaller by a head that seemed too large for its body. It was covered in a bushy mane of iron-grey hair that matched his Dennis Healey style eyebrows. The eyes could just be seen as glints of light in the deep-set sockets and his whole body language said confrontation. MacAllister closed his eyes to see if he was imagining it, but when he opened them again the man was still there.
“Councillor, bloody John Morton. That's all I need.”
He turned to see Andy Davies unsuccessfully trying to smother a grin. He shrugged.
“Oh well. I might as well get it over with and you can take that grin off your face as well, Davies.”
He lifted the flap in the counter and walking through held out his hand in greeting.
“Councillor Morton! What can I do for you, Sir?”
He was careful not to smile. This man had just lost his only son in the most terrible circumstances and would not take kindly to inanities. The Councillor ignored the outstretched hand and stood up. He was of an equal height to MacAllister and the two looked each other squarely in the eye. Neither smiled and it was obvious that Morton had done his crying and was now about to put his weight behind the conviction of his son's murderer.
“I came to see what the situation is with the Flinders case and to see if I could have a private word with you, Inspector. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
MacAllister looked around and saw Andy Davies ears straining like a radar receiver trying to catch every word. He turned back to John Morton.
“You had better come through to my office where we can talk without half of the station hearing us.” He turned to Andy Davies. “Give my lot a buzz and ask one of them to pop around to the coffee shop and get myself and the Councillor some decent coffee, will you please, Andy?”
He lifted the flap and motioned his visitor through.
When they entered the CID room MacAllister made no effort to introduce his visitor to Marcus Lomax and Jackie Ward, he didn't need to. There wasn't a member of the force in Bristol who didn't already know Councillor John Morton, the law and order councillor. Morton was a right wing Tory of the old school whose views would have often made Margaret Thatcher look like a wimp. With this present New Labour government he appeared to be somewhere to the right of Genghis Khan, but to be fair MacAllister himself wasn't entirely out of sympathy with some aspects of his shoot them and flog them attitudes. He himself was fed up with arresting the same criminals every other year as some kind hearted parole board released the buggers back onto his patch, although he would never have told the councillor that. It would be too tempting for him to then go out and announce to all and sundry at some political meeting that the local CID were in favour of his views. They went through into his office where he pulled out a chair for the other man and tried to remember that however much in the past this man had unfairly castigated the police force for his own political ends, he had just lost his son.
Marcus Lomax came in with the coffee. Jackie hadn't argued with him when he volunteered to go and fetch it, as she knew he would wait a long time for the Guv to pay him for them. She had been caught enough times herself until she learnt her lesson. She would have liked to be able to hear what was being said in the next office and went over and opened the top drawer of the filing cabinet closest to the connecting door in pretence of looking for a file, but MacAllister closed the door firmly. He then went around his desk to his own chair and sitting down put both hands palm down on the desk in front of him.
“Well, Councillor. What can I do for you that is not already being done, that brings you all the way over here?”
This was veiled sarcasm because the council chambers were less than four hundred yards away. However, for all his complaining about the poor efforts of the police to maintain law and order in the city, the Councillor had never taken up their invitation to come and see at first hand what they were up against. Morton had the grace to look uncomfortable for a moment, but not for long. After all he was a politician.
“How are you doing in the Flinders case?”
It was obvious he could not bring himself to call it the Trevor Morton case, as it was filed in the CID office. MacAllister stared at him.
“You know how we are doing, Councillor, because you are on the police board and you used your position to ask the Chief Constable to find out for you. That was only two days ago.”
Morton wriggled, but it would have taken more than that to make him really feel uncomfortable. You didn't build an engineering works employing fifteen hundred people in less than twenty years by being easily flustered. Nor did you become a local councillor if you embarrassed easily.
“I know that and he said that you thought that Flinders would claim self defence.”
“Quite so. After all, your son did have a fairly substantial bit of metal in his hand at the time of the incident in the shape of a jack handle. Any brief worth his salt is bound to try for self defence.”
The other's veneer of sophistication shattered and the man who had built up a business and fortune with only the skill of his hands and the sweat of his brow was revealed. A man who had not hesitated to take whatever measures he thought he could legally get away with to obtain an advantage over any opposition, man who was seething with hatred at the killer of his only child and heir.
“Of course he had a bloody jack handle in his hand. He had just been changing a wheel for Christ's sake. That doesn't alter the fact that the other bastard was walking around armed with a bloody great hammer. Damn it all man, he even carries it in a special holster.”
MacAllister reflected that the Chief Constable had been a bit too free with his information and that Morton must have used his Masonic clout on him.
“We know that, Councillor, but he will say he was only carrying it as a burglary tool and he was. I don't suppose when he left home he intended to kill someone with it.”
Morton put a thumb to his lips and chewed it savagely. MacAllister waited for whatever it was he was trying to make up his mind to say, the silence stretched on for several seconds, and then.
“Trevor wouldn't come into the business with me you know. Knew he wasn't cut out for it. He was too pleasant and easy going for the cut and thrust of commercial life. It was our fault I suppose, his mother and I. Loved him too much and protected him from the realities of life. All he ever cared about was his rugby and cars until Jane came along. Even then he was quite happy selling cars for a living. Didn't have an enemy in the world that I ever heard of and now some little thug has killed him because he tried to protect his neighbour's property.”
His voice grated and the slight northern accent became stronger.
“Look, Inspector, what I want to know is if there is any way we can make sure that he gets what's coming to him?”
“Councillor, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see that evil little sod hanging from a rope or locked up for the rest of his life. However, we have one old lady witness and some forensic evidence. I think we can expect manslaughter at best. If your son hadn't been carrying that jack handle I think we could have made murder stick, but under the current circumstances it will take a miracle.”
Morton looked shocked.
“How long will he get for that?”
“Five years, tops.” He held his hand out to stop the outburst. “I know, its nothing for wiping a mans life out, but that's the way it is.”
He softened and let the hand drop to Morton's sleeve.
“I'm sorry.”
Morton pushed his hand away, roughly.
““Don't give me your bloody sympathy because I don't want it, but I'm telling you that one way or another that bloody animal will pay for what he did to Trevor. Even if I have to wait for years I will get that little bastard. Isn't there some way we can make sure he gets tried for murder.”
MacAllister didn't reply for several seconds.
“Do you mean, rig the evidence, Councillor?”
Morton's face went bright red as he finally allowed the true purpose of his visit to come out.
“If necessary, yes. Damn it. All we need is one witness and I think I could arrange that.” he glowered. “Or for someone to sort him out if the police can't manage it.”
MacAllister shook his head gently.
“I will do you a big favour and pretend I didn't hear that, Councillor, but remember this. The law applies to all of us and if something happens to Flinders and it is traced back to you, it will be you in the dock, not him.”
Morton stood to leave, but he didn't offer his hand. He just picked up his hat and walked out of the office without a backward glance. Lomax and Ward watched him go and then busied themselves with their paper work as MacAllister walked out of his office and left without a word to either of them.
“I suppose that being the boss does have its drawbacks as well as its privileges.” Lomax said, with a big grin on his face. Jackie was not amused.
“Listen Marcus. MacAllister a good Guvnor and what goes wrong for him goes wrong for all of us. He's under a lot of pressure at the moment. He's got a murder case on his hands and his only daughter is getting married on Saturday. That's not a combination you would choose to have if you had any sense. I hope if you ever make Inspector, which is unlikely if you go around grinning every time your boss gets a problem, you remember MacAllister and try to make as good a job of it has he does.”
Lomax backed away from her and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Steady, Jan, steady. Don't blow your stack. I didn't realise you had such a strong case of boss fixation. I thought that only happened to secretaries, not hard bitten police detectives.”
“Piss off you arrogant, chauvinistic, Welsh prick.”
Lomax grinned
“I think that is a very racist remark, Detective Ward.”
“Bollocks.”
She picked up her jacket and her handbag and stormed out of the room. Lomax grinned at her disappearing back and turned back to the file on his desk. He didn't hear Sergeant Clive Sayers enter the room until he stopped two yards in front of his desk. He jumped at his sudden appearance and the colour rushed to his face. Sayers walked over and sat down sideways on the edge of the desk, knocking some of the paperwork to the floor. He didn't seem to notice he had done it. He looked Lomax in the eyes for some long seconds before he spoke.
“How long have you been with us, Marcus?”
Lomax managed to produce a smile when he answered.
“About six weeks I suppose, Sarge.”
“Yeah. That's what I make it as well. Slow learner are you, Marcus?”
Lomax looked indignant at this.
“I don't think so, Sarge. Why? What's your problem?”
“You are my friend. You're the problem. I think its time you and I got a few things straight.”
Lomax allowed a small smile patient smile to appear on his face. He sat back in the chair and folded his arms.
“Going to give me the benefit of your experience are you, Sergeant.”
Sayers smiled back, but there was no friendship or humour in it.
“I don't think so, Marcus. You don't seem to have the ability to absorb it, so what I am going to do is give you an instruction that you are going to obey, that is if you want to stay on this squad.”
The smile vanished from Lomax's face as he unfolded his arms and sat up straight in the chair. Sayers leaned over the desk and with his left hand pushed him back into his again seat and held him there, his face was only about twelve inches away from the other mans and the fact that the tall athletic Lomax was nearly six inches taller and about two stone heavier didn't seem to worry him. For when he spoke his voice was calm and level.
“Since you have been here you have been licking MacAllister's backside as if it was chocolate flavoured. Now that's all right with me, as I know the Guvnor is quite capable of sorting you out if and when he gets tired of it. That is between you and him. However, you have also been treating Jackie Ward as if she was the office girl and only here for you to chat up and talk down to because she wasn't born with a set of testicles.”
He took his hand from Lomax's chest and stood up. Lomax remained where he was, sat back in his chair and Sayers continued.
“That will stop. She is a good copper and she has been in CID for four years. In that time she has arrested some right hard bastards and once stepped in and stopped a little thug who called himself a football supporter, from breaking my head with an iron bar. She is senior to you in service and experience and if this world were an honest place she would be a sergeant by now. So in future you treat her with the same respect you want for yourself or I will sort you out. Your choice.”
His voice was gentle, but there was no mistaking his meaning. Lomax had the good sense not to speak. He just nodded his head a couple of times. Sayers nodded back and went over to his desk. He sat down and picked up the top paper in his in tray with a heavy sigh. Lomax went back to his own files and silence filled the office.
Vengeance Page 9