The Badge & the Pen Thrillers

by Roger A Price

  Vinnie turned to face Delany, the surprise on his face no doubt evident. Delany carried on before he could speak.

  “I’ve no doubt that Moxley is as guilty as hell for the original rape and murder of that poor sod from Preston. But, as a result of what Dawson has told us, I’ve also no doubt that a court of appeal would have no choice but to render his conviction unsafe. And as ten years has passed since his original conviction, then there is no chance of a retrial; he’ll be scot free.”

  “What about his newer crimes?” Vinnie asked.

  “All committed while he has been deemed insane. Not that it matters. We just need to catch him and put him back before a court, where he’ll be locked up: either as insane, or for his new atrocities.”

  “What’s the moral dilemma then?”

  “When do we act on what we’ve been told? Do we sit on it until we get our hands on Moxley? Or not?”

  “Let’s get Moxley first, before he kills again – public protection – and then have Dawson investigated properly,” Vinnie said.

  “I was hoping you’d say that; we have to be both agreed,” Delany said. “But don’t think for one second that I’m going to let Dawson get away with what he’s done, no matter the cost and fallout it’ll cause.”

  Vinnie knew his boss was right; they had to concentrate on getting Moxley first. And that started with getting hold of the protected witness.

  “I’ll brief the Chief Con personally to keep it above board,” Delany said.

  “Will he be happy for you to put Dawson on hold?”

  “We have to stay focused, not tie ourselves up in knots. It’s waited ten years to come out, a bit longer won’t matter.”

  The rest of the journey back to Rochdale was in silence. Vinnie wondered if they shouldn’t have nicked Dawson when they had the chance, but realised that would only start the detention clock ticking. There would have to be a lot of investigation done before that happened. He’d also wondered why Dawson had told them in the first place. Delany reckoned it was a mixture of fear, arrogance and an assumption of some ‘old boys’ network’ still working. Vinnie agreed, though by the look on Dawson’s face, fear was probably the prime motivator, plus the knowledge that if he didn’t say anything he would be putting his old informant’s life in great danger.

  Back at the incident room, and after grabbing a brew, Delany nodded for Vinnie to follow him into his office. Delany then rang the chief’s staff officer – a brown-nosing chief inspector, desperate to become a superintendent – called Durant or something like that. Vinnie had met him several times and wasn’t impressed with the guy, and by the sound of frustration in Delany’s rising voice, neither was he.

  He came off the phone and turned to face Vinnie. “Jobsworth little runt.”

  “I gathered as much,” Vinnie said.

  “He’s going to ring me back when the chief’s free to speak, wouldn’t just put me through.”

  Delany’s desk phone rang. Ten minutes later, he replaced it in its cradle. Vinnie had heard enough to guess what the chief’s reaction had been. He tried to lighten the atmosphere.

  “Not the best news he’s ever had, I’m guessing?”

  “You guessed right, but he’s agreed to our wishes so long as we record the decisions and rationale in my SIO’s policy log.”

  Vinnie was about to answer when Delany’s office door burst open and in hurried Rob. Vinnie was about to say something about knocking, or the lack of it, until he saw the serious look on his colleague’s face. Rob closed the door just as quickly before he turned to face Vinnie and Delany.

  “We’ve got a problem, boss,” Rob said to them both.

  He doesn’t know the half of it, Vinnie thought, before he carried on.

  “It’s Johnson. He’s come clean about his true connections with Moxley; and you’re not going to like it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “We’ll play swapsies to see who’s got the biggest bombshell, you first,” Vinnie said as he noticed Delany place both elbows on his desk blotter and his hands on either side of his head.

  “Apparently, Johnson is being investigated by the prison service’s internal affairs,” Rob started.

  “Good of them to tell us,” Delany said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, boss,” said Rob. “Apparently, when Moxley attacked and raped the inmate, which led to him being mentally assessed, and ultimately shipped out, Johnson was on duty and should have been on the wing.”

  “Where was he?” Vinnie asked.

  “Watching telly. If he’d have been doing his job properly he might have been able to intervene.”

  “Christ, what the hell’s the governor playing at, keeping this little gem back?” Delany said.

  “Depending on the level of negligence, it could even cross over into the criminal side of culpability,” Vinnie pointed out. “No wonder he was shy before. You’ve done well, Rob.”

  “There’s more, boss.”

  Delany groaned.

  Rob then went on to explain how Moxley had made Johnson’s life a misery and, when he learned of his predicament, he started to blackmail him. Saying at first he would lay off him, and even back up his story that he had checked in on Moxley when he hadn’t.

  “What about CCTV?” Vinnie asked.

  “The recorder somehow got broken on the day of the incident.”

  “Convenient,” Delany said.

  Rob told them that Moxley was prepared to say that the incident – which he was claiming as a self-defensive act – with the other inmate, happened later than it had in order to back Johnson up and make it look like normal supervision wouldn’t have prevented it.

  “Why would Moxley do that?” Delany asked.

  “Because he wanted Johnson to find something out for him. The name and address of some petty crim.”

  “And did he?”

  “This is where it turns nasty. Had Johnson stuck to the agreement, then he has no doubt Moxley would have backed him up and that would have been the end of it,” Rob said.

  “Not sure how much value you would put on the word of Moxley.” Vinnie said.

  “I know, I said that to Johnson, but he said it was better than nothing. He said if it did enough to remove the air of suspicion from him, then that would hopefully have been enough.”

  “I doubt that the prison service’s professional standards lot are that thick, but go on,” Vinnie said.

  Rob continued, saying that as soon as Johnson learned of the mental health issues and that Moxley would be moved, it was a game-changer. He had told Moxley, the information would now cost him dosh.

  “How much?” Delany asked.

  “Five grand. He reckons that was what Moxley was looking for when he searched his flat. And’s what more; he found it.”

  “How was the money paid?” Vinnie asked.

  “The day before Moxley was moved, Johnson was told to go to a bench in a local park and the dosh was there.”

  “Did he give Moxley the info he was after?” Vinnie asked.

  “Yes, on the day he was being shipped.”

  “How did Moxley take having the tables turned on him by Johnson?” Vinnie asked.

  “That’s the bit that’s freaked him,” Rob said. “Apparently Moxley had told Johnson, that one day he would be free and then he would seek retribution from Johnson. Said he’d look good in a wig.”

  Vinnie now realised how the ginger wig story must have terrified Johnson in the light of this hitherto unknown threat. He explained it to Delany, who was looking even redder. As if reading his thoughts, Rob pressed on.

  “I think that’s the bit that’s turned him, boss. He fears Moxley more than the law, and therefore needs us, whatever the cost.”

  Rob had done well in getting the whole story out of Johnson. At least now they knew Moxley would be coming after Johnson, which could work to their advantage, though there were some serious risks to manage.

  Delany then brought Rob up to date on Dawson, before getting h
im to sign a ‘need to know policy’. Said it remained between them and the chief, on pain of death almost. Rob said he understood.

  “Just one thing, Rob,” Vinnie said. “What’s the story with the petty crim? Presumably he’s another potential victim we’ve got to protect.”

  “I’m guessing so, but Johnson didn’t know what the beef was, not that it would have to be much to upset Moxley. He said it had taken him a while to trace him, some ex-con who’d moved out of town. Name of George Piper.”

  The name meant nothing to Vinnie, but Delany said, “Dear God,” before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. He unfolded it on his desk and Vinnie read the name ‘George Piper’ written on it next to an address in Preston.

  “How the hell did Johnson get that?” Vinnie asked.

  “I can help you out there,” Rob said. “I didn’t realise the significance when Johnson told me, but he said the petty crim had changed his name. He didn’t know why, though it’s not uncommon with crims who are trying to hide their past, I guess.”

  “Yeah, but how did he get it?” Delany said.

  “Said he paid some cop,” Rob said.

  And Vinnie and Delany swore in unison.

  *

  Moxley had always liked the old 600 series Rovers, or poor man’s Jags as some called them. They had comfy seats. This was an old one with more than a hundred thousand miles on the clock, but it’d do for now. He didn’t want to waste his cash; he didn’t know how long it would have to last. He hoped Jimmy had some funds stashed away, or at least access to some. Then he wondered how he was bearing up chained in that dark dank place, no doubt not too pleased. Moxley had explained it was only temporary until he fully trusted him again and, in any event, he would treat Jimmy later; that would put a smile on his face. The thought certainly made Moxley grin.

  He’d been glad that his old mate still had the scrap metal yard, he had seemed genuinely surprised to see him, said he hadn’t realised he was on ‘the out’. Moxley wasn’t too sure whether to believe him or not, he was very aware that the Traffic Warden and the screws had put a price on his head. He’d done ten years so it was feasible he could have been parolled, apart from that other unfortunate business, of course. But he didn’t think his mate would be aware of that.

  He had been relieved to see His Man’s BMW drop into the crusher and pleased his mate had let him join him in the crane’s cab so he could witness it. Such a shame that his mate fell into the crusher along with the car. He had nice long grey hair; which would have made a great wig. But he knew it had to look like an accident, though he guessed it would be a while before he was found; apparently divorced and running the yard on his own since his brother had passed away. Moxley shook off his disdain; there would be other wigs and, in any event, he had work to do.

  Chapter Twenty

  Vinnie sent Rob home before it became too late as he’d done well with Johnson and because, judging by his phone’s constant vibrating at incoming texts, he had a hot date that evening. He’d have to have another word with him about his girlfriend’s constant interruptions, turning his phone to vibrate only as an incoming alert wasn’t really what he’d meant when he’d first raised it with him. He didn’t want to be too hard on him, though. At least he has a social life, unlike me. The thought had made him check his inbox, yet again, although he knew it was in vain.

  Delany was starting to look like a library book – well red; he obviously had blood pressure issues, not helped by the last batch of revelations. Vinnie had waited with him while they heard back from Preston CID; he’d phoned them as soon as Rob had finished briefing them. They had gone to the canteen for a brew while they waited. It made a change from the machine stuff, and were just finishing when Delany’s mobile rang. He appeared to listen intently and thanked the caller before he turned to face Vinnie.

  “That was quick,” Vinnie said, realising it was Preston calling back.

  “I know; that was the duty DS, he’s gone around to Piper’s flat and no one’s in. He’s spoken to the neighbours who say he works away a lot, but don’t know where. Apparently, he normally gets home late on Friday evenings for the weekend, but not every weekend. They have put a note through his door but say they can’t afford to put a man outside. They’ll get a detective to drive past every hour tomorrow evening, hopefully to catch him as soon as he gets in.”

  “So, we’ve got twenty-four hours to find Piper, ideally before he returns?” Vinnie said.

  Vinnie looked at his watch as Delany answered, “Less.” It was nearly eight now.

  Back in Delany’s office he said Vinnie should turn in, there was little more he could do tonight. He said he’d speak to witness protection to see if they had any idea as to where Piper could be. But he wasn’t hopeful.

  “After ten years, he would no doubt be well and truly off their books, but they might have some historical info we can follow,” Delany said. Adding, “I’ll ring you if we get any hot leads.”

  Vinnie bade Delany goodnight and headed off to the car park, not sure what sort of reception he’d get when he saw Lesley.

  Twenty-five minutes later he pulled up into the driveway of their semi and noted that Lesley’s car was not on the front, unless she’d put it in the garage, which would be unusual.

  He gave it his best ‘Hi honey, I’m home’ rendition as he opened the front door, but received no response. No doubt out again, seeing ‘Sandra’ or whoever’s turn it was tonight to put her up for the evening. He walked down the hall and imagined if they had a dog. He’d always liked dogs, and hadn’t had one since he was a kid. It was the thought of someone greeting him as he arrived home that triggered off the romantic memories. It’d crossed his mind before about getting one, but he knew it would be unfair on the animal as he and Lesley both worked full-time. But the prospect sounded inviting. The old joke was certainly true – put your partner and your dog in the boot of your car and go for a ride down a bumpy road, then see which one is pleased to see you when open the boot again. Smiling, he shouted again, still no answer, and no note that he could see. He checked his watch, it was nearly nine, so it was properly fair enough he thought as he opened the fridge-freezer – beer and microwave lasagne – in that order.

  Thirty minutes later he shifted to an armchair in the lounge with two more bottles of lager to supplement the two he’d already had, and switched on the TV.

  The next thing he knew it was 3 am and the TV sounded loud as he stirred. Roused, he made his way to bed. Still no sign of Lesley, things were getting worse. He checked his phone for any text messages, nothing. He considered whether he should text her, and thought ‘what’s the point’; he’d see her in the morning.

  Vinnie was up and showered by seven and still no Lesley. She couldn’t avoid him forever, they needed to sit down and talk like adults. With this in mind he left a friendly note on the kitchen table, well, as friendly as he could force. ‘Hope you are okay? Can we talk? No shouting, or questions, just a chat. Lv, Vinnie x’. He didn’t feel like writing ‘love’, so abbreviated it to ‘Lv’, and he had to dig deep to write ‘x’ at the end. Sounds petty, he knew, but he’d not been the one out at a mate’s all night.

  By eight o’clock he was sat in Delany’s office discussing what they should tell the staff. Normally, Vinnie would have argued that all the detectives needed to be fully briefed. He noticed they had lost two of their team to the gang-related homicide enquiry overnight. “And then there were eight,” he said.

  “Tell me about it,” Delany answered.

  It was only when Delany mentioned the potential bent cop side to it that Vinnie agreed they should stay silent on Dawson, Piper and the potential bad apple. At least for now.

  Rob rushed into the incident room at ten past eight as Delany was starting the briefing. He looked his usual un-ironed self and mouthed the word ‘sorry’. Vinnie nodded. In truth he envied him. As soon as the briefing was over, and everyone was sent out, Vinnie asked Rob to go and check on Johnson. “It l
ooks as if you’re the one who’s building a productive rapport with him; after all he only opened up fully after I left yesterday. Get back into his ribs and see if you can’t get the name of the cop out of him.”

  “Okay, boss will do.”

  “And take as long as you need. He won’t want to give that little gem up quite so easily, and promise him whatever you think appropriate. That way, it won’t be you breaking any promises, but us.”

  “What about breaching PACE?” Rob asked.

  Vinnie paused before answering; he knew Rob had a point. Under the Police and Criminal Evidence Act, as soon as they started talking to Johnson as a suspect they had to caution him and read him his rights and, technically, he was as guilty as the cop was for criminal misconduct.

  “Okay, Rob. Let’s say we are not sure at this stage as to whether Johnson is telling us the truth. Say he was able to access the data some other way,” Vinnie started.

  Rob looked uncertain, but Delany had clicked on and joined in.

  “Ah. Like from the prison’s records somehow.”

  “Yeah,” Vinnie explained. “If he has accessed prison data, then he’s not conspired with a cop to commit a criminal act. It may appear more convenient for Johnson to say so to cover his tracks to prevent any internal prison discipline issues. Saying he got the info from a bent cop might seem like a good cover for him, but he is unwittingly admitting to a crime.”

  Rob started to nod.

  Vinnie truthfully hoped this was so, but feared otherwise. But until they had grounds to base any suspicion on fact, they would continue treating Johnson as a witness on the issue. He explained this fully to Rob so there would be no cock-ups. The last thing he wanted was to compromise any future proceedings against some bent cop – if in fact—there was one, by an abuse of process.

  “But what, if he comes clean and names the cop?” Rob asked.