Particular Stupidities (The Romney And Marsh Files Book 5)
Page 32
‘What if she tops herself?’ said Spicer.
Marsh shook her head. ‘She’s not the sort.’
‘Do you think she’ll cooperate?’ said Grimes.
‘We’ve been over this,’ said Marsh. ‘We’ll know soon enough.’
Grimes cleared his throat. ‘Listen, Sarge, Derek and I, well we just want to say before either she shows or it all goes tits up that we respect and admire you for what you’re doing for him.’
‘For us,’ Marsh corrected him.
Grimes shook his head. ‘You’re not fooling anyone with that, Sarge. Sorry. Do you mind me asking why you’re doing it? Why you’re risking your career for him? And don’t give me that old tosh about you’re as guilty as him.’
‘I never said that.’
‘You know what I mean. Come on.’
Marsh sat back in her chair and threw her Biro on to her paperwork. She breathed out heavily through her nose. ‘Because it wouldn’t serve anyone. It wouldn’t be right. Not over something like this. Throwing his career away without a fight would be a kind of stupidity. If he goes to Superintendent Vine and tells her what he told us she’d have no choice but to suspend him pending enquiries. She might even enjoy it.’
Grimes nodded his understanding and looked thoughtful.
Marsh said, ‘Remember when I was assaulted on the seafront and my bag was taken.’ Grimes held her stare and nodded. ‘And a few days later my bag turned up at the station. Just handed in. No note. No one after a reward. Everything was there. As well as my warrant card and bank cards and keys, I had some irreplaceable personal items that I thought I’d never see again. It meant a lot to me to get that back. I’m not stupid and I’m a detective. I know how and why it was returned. And I know what he did and what he risked to make sure I got it back. He didn’t have to do anything, but he did. I learned something from that – loyalty. I hope I can help him. That’s the best I can say.’
The phone rang on Marsh’s desk. Grimes and Spicer looked over as she answered it. Marsh listened for a few moments and then said, ‘Put her in an interview room. I’ll be down in a minute.’
***
28
Marsh was sitting in the same chair Julie Carpenter had occupied only a couple of days before. There was still plenty of garden in sunlight. It was her first visit to Romney’s home. He hadn’t given her a tour. Without preamble or ceremony, he’d led her straight through the house and into the back garden. As soon as they’d sat down he lit up. Marsh could see there were several dog ends in the ashtray already. He’d offered hot coffee or a bottle of cold beer. She went for the beer. She felt like celebrating. Romney got two, prized the lids off and passed one over. Marsh savoured the first sip.
‘This is nice,’ she said, taking in the view. ‘I wouldn’t like the hassle of the upkeep but it must be lovely and peaceful here.’
‘It is. You can keep your seaside flats. Give me the countryside and a good plot of land any day of the week.’
‘An Englishman’s home?’
‘Something like that.’ He took a long pull on the beer.
Marsh said, ‘I don’t want to count our chickens over this but I thought you might like to hear some good news. Julie Carpenter came into the station this morning voluntarily to confess to her part in the death of Lance Leavey.’
Romney was visibly stunned. ‘Really? That’s unexpected. She sounded on the edge last night, though.’ He gave her a thin smile. ‘You missed an opportunity to make a high profile arrest in the field.’
‘Never mind. As Peter said, it’s the result that counts, isn’t it?’
‘While I’m glad to hear that she’s turned herself in, how is it good news for me?’
Marsh sipped the beer, enjoying it. ‘She asked me to give you a message. She says she has no intention of making any trouble for you. She assured me that she will not be mentioning your name in connection with anything. She does not seek to profit from any... association you had. She wanted me to tell you that as far as she was concerned events and your friendship – that’s how she referred to it – were entirely separate. She promised me that.’
Romney could not help showing his suspicion. ‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why would she say all that and why would she ask you to tell me that? I’d have thought that being implicated in a murder investigation would have occupied her with trying to save her own skin.’
Marsh shrugged. ‘Maybe she was sorry for the way things turned out.’
‘Lying scheming bitch.’ Marsh winced. ‘I bet she’s claiming it was all Patton’s doing and she was too scared of him to talk. What is her explanation? You interviewed her, I suppose.’
‘I did. You were right about one thing. It was about sex. Lance Leavey saw her and Patton being indiscreet in one of the classrooms at night. He filmed it. Got in touch with the school and found out who she was by describing her. When he realised she was acting head teacher he tried his hand at a bit of blackmail.’
Marsh risked a look at him to see how he was taking it. He was not staring mournfully into the distance. His face was a mask of cold, dispassionate loathing.
‘Julie claims that she and Patton arranged for Lance Leavey to come to the school. She said they just wanted to talk to him. She said they were prepared to pay him a few hundred pounds. But Lance wanted more. Lance and Patton had a disagreement and then Patton lost his temper and attacked Lance. She said he killed him with a blow to the head with a length of pipe.
‘They panicked and wrapped the body in plastic sheeting from the building works, another point to you, and carried it between them to the container under cover of darkness. Patton was supposed to organise some transport and get rid of it but two things happened to delay him. One: the Holloways decided to put Tiddles out in the field, another thing you got right, so they couldn’t sneak in under cover of darkness and retrieve the body. And two: Patton hurt his back and couldn’t lift anything as heavy as Lance Leavey dead and limp, let alone dig a hole to bury him in.’
‘So what were they going to do with him? They couldn’t just leave him there.’
‘Of course not. When Patton’s back was fully recovered they were going to move the chest freezer with Lance in it out of the container and dispose of it.’
‘Where?’
‘I don’t think they’d worked that bit out yet.’
‘Weren’t they afraid of it being discovered?’
‘They were, but there was nothing they could do about it. They just couldn’t move it yet and they couldn’t exactly sub the job out, could they? What they did do was to make sure that no one apart from them and the Holloways had access to the container and the Holloways, apparently, never went in there. And the body was well sealed in the plastic sheeting and then inside a rubber sealed and locked chest freezer.’
‘Where are they now?’
‘They’re both in the cells. Court in the morning.’
‘Who picked Patton up?’
Marsh smiled. ‘I did. So I got one high profile arrest in the field.’
‘Good for you. How was he?’
‘Initially, surprisingly convincing that he had no idea what we were talking about. When I told him Julie had come in and confessed he changed his tune quicker than my iPod shuffle.
‘After I explained to them both the potential benefits to their defences of cooperating fully with our investigation they both became refreshingly obliging. I don’t think that either of them is going to give us any trouble. They both seem full of remorse for what happened.’
‘Not remorseful enough to have owned up and spared a grieving mother all that agony and uncertainty. Never ceases to surprise me how remorseful people can become after they’ve been rumbled.’
‘In my interview with him I didn’t get the impression he suspected you and Julie might be anything more than just old friends. I spoke to Julie about it. She said that she hadn’t told him of your history or your present, whatever that is.’
 
; ‘Was.’
‘Was then, and I don’t want to know either.’
Romney snorted. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not the type to end up on Jeremy Kyle revealing my stupidity and my embarrassment to Britain’s underbelly of sleazy voyeurs. So, where does this leave me, in your opinion?’
‘If she keeps her word and you decide that least said soonest mended, no one need know about any slips of professionalism.’
Romney took another swig of the beer and said, ‘You might’ve saved my professional skin, maybe my career.’
‘That might be a bit dramatic.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘And let’s not forget it’s not over till the deputy head teacher sings in court.’
‘I’m more grateful than I can say. But you’ve also made me indebted to you, to each of you in CID. Is that something that can work, do you think?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean what happens if, for example, I catch Peter taking backhanders from a drug dealer, or Derek with some kiddy-porn or you snorting cocaine in the meeting room? How am I going to deal with that?’
‘Pretty extreme examples,’ said Marsh, smiling.
‘Maybe so but the question remains.’
‘You’ll do the right thing, sir,’ said Marsh. ‘You generally do. Maybe we’ve all learned something from this, eh?’
Romney nodded thoughtfully. ‘Then I just have to hope she doesn’t decide to break her silence. It’ll look worse for me if it’s her who says something when I’ve had the opportunity and said nothing.’
‘It’s a risk, I suppose. But in your shoes I’d take it. An outside chance of possible trouble against the guaranteed variety. Obviously, you’ll need to distance yourself from anything to do with the enquiry now.’
‘I’ll have to explain why I’m not leading things from here on in when I come back.’
‘You and the defendant know each other from way back and so you’re removing yourself from the investigation, given the turn of events. You met her at one of those compulsory evenings, didn’t you?’
‘True. But won’t Boudicca have expected me to have declared that interest earlier?’
‘I think she wouldn’t take much convincing that given the length of time you’ve been a policeman in Dover if you had to distance yourself from every enquiry where you were familiar with someone involved you wouldn’t be doing much work. After all, she’s not looking for fault, is she?’
Romney gave Marsh a look to suggest he doubted that. Then he breathed a little easier. ‘Maybe you’re right.’
Marsh cocked her head at noises from inside the house. Someone had arrived and let themselves in. That meant they were trusted enough to have a key. As she was considering this, an attractive young woman stepped through the French windows and on to the patio. She was wearing the uniform of one of the ferry companies that operated between Dover and the ports of the north coast of France. She was even younger than Julie Carpenter and Marsh found herself frowning disappointedly and feeling a little foolish. If this was how it looked she could feel a rising resentment for the sympathy she’d had for Romney and the way she’d put herself out to help save him.
‘Oh, sorry,’ said the newcomer. ‘I didn’t know you had company.’
Romney stood, went over to the young woman and put his arm around her shoulder. ‘I suppose I’d better introduce you to each other. Detective Sergeant Marsh this is Zara. My daughter. She’s staying with me for a bit. Got a job on the boats. Trying to save some money before she goes travelling. She’s off to South America in a month. She’s recently finished her MA.’
Marsh had never seen Romney looking more proud. She stood and shook the girl’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Zara. Congratulations. What’s your MA in?’
‘Medieval Studies. I thought it might help me understand my father better.’
‘Very funny,’ said Romney. ‘I’m still struggling to see how expertise in the Middle Ages is going to help you find work in twenty-first century technologically advanced Britain.’
‘And I keep telling you – castles or computers, society and people are basically the same: not very nice. Anyway, I’m not looking for work yet. I’ve spent three-quarters of my life in education. I need a break. Maybe I’ll end up looking after orangutans somewhere.’
‘Yes, that’ll make all those expensive years of post-compulsory education totally worth it, won’t it?’
‘It’s because of all those years of learning about people that I’ve come to the conclusion that most aren’t worth saving. I’d rather devote my time and energy to looking after the poor creatures who suffer because of Man’s greed and recklessness.’
Despite Romney’s playful jibes, Marsh didn’t need to be the keen observer of human nature that she was to understand how much he felt for his daughter.
Romney said, ‘We’re talking shop. It’ll bore you. We won’t be long and I’ll make us some dinner.’
‘Fine. I get the message. I need a shower anyway. Nice to have met you DS Marsh.’
‘Joy. For next time.’ Marsh smiled. She immediately liked the girl. She seemed strong and independent. When Zara had gone out of earshot she said as much to Romney. She also added that she wondered where the girl got her obvious misanthropic streak from. It seemed rather wide for one so young.
‘Her mother’s side,’ he said without hesitation. ‘Strong is right. Independent? When it suits her. She is a woman, after all.’
‘And what may I ask is that supposed to mean?’
‘She’s manipulative, so she’s normal. As for financially independent? No. I can get my bank statements if you need proof.’ They sat again. Romney shook another cigarette free and lit up. He took a swig of his beer. ‘Take it from me, Joy, if you ever want to experience unconditional love in your life, have a child. It’ll be one-way traffic, but you won’t mind. That’s part of what makes it unconditional, I suppose. What are you doing this evening?’
‘Thought I might go for a run. See if I can get my time down.’
‘Oh God. I’d forgotten all about that bloody unfun run. Did you know the police used to run it in chicken costumes? She how competitive she’s made us all?’
When Marsh had stopped laughing at the image of DI Romney running along the seafront dressed as a chicken, he said, ‘No Justin tonight?’
She shook her head. ‘Not tonight. Why?’
‘Stay for dinner. The offer is genuine, by the way. I’m not just being polite.’
She’d had a good day. The beer was creeping into her extremities and relaxing her. She was quite comfortable, peckish and she didn’t feel like cooking. ‘What about Zara?’
‘She won’t mind. To be honest, I think I bore her. Bit of female company at the dinner table might encourage her to talk.’
‘In that case, thanks very much. Don’t mind if I do, sir.’
‘Perhaps you’d better call me, Tom, if you’re going to eat with us. Oh, and if she starts making noises about joining the police, try and talk her out of it, will you?’
‘Why? Has she before?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you don’t want her to?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘With the way she feels about people, I think that would be a particularly stupid idea.’
***
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