‘That’s right. They were a different variety. The details are all in there.’
‘So you’re suggesting that Clark didn’t want to kill the other couple, the Sidhus, and that’s why he didn’t put a potato on their outlet pipe. Is that it?’
‘Pretty much, yes. But it’s not evidence, is it? Because if it was kids, maybe they just saw a light on or something in the Sidhu’s caravan, and decided to leave well alone.’
‘All right, so can I ask you a few questions, Andy?’
‘Certainly.’
‘The outside temperature was already low, just below freezing, at around the time of death.’
‘That’s right.’
‘So why was Mrs. Clark only wearing a t-shirt and jeans when she was found? Those caravans are bloody nippy, I can tell you, but her sweater was still in her bag, unpacked.’
‘You’ve got personal experience? Of static caravans, I mean?’
‘Too right. When I was a kid my mum took me to them every summer, all round the coast. They were usually freezing, even in July.’
‘Rain bouncing off the roof, all that?’ said Hall, smiling.
‘Having your ice cream washed away. It’s the taste of childhood disappointment, is that.’
‘Happy days’ said Hall, smiling until he saw that Jane wasn’t. ‘Anyhow, what conclusion do you draw from the fact that Mrs. Clark wasn’t warmly dressed? There were no signs of duress, no drink or drugs in her blood or stomach.’
‘Agreed. No conclusion, just an observation really. But I did have one other question.’
‘Shoot.’
‘What has happened since? To Mr. Clark, I mean?’
‘What indeed? I must admit that I’m curious about that too, Jane. We have no formal interest in him of course, but I did hear that he does have a new lady friend.’
‘A lady friend?’ Jane was smiling.
‘All right, but you know what I mean. A girlfriend, then. And my mole tells me that Clark might even be about to marry again.’
‘Your mole?’
‘Top notch source. Never wrong. My wife’s hairdresser. If it goes on in Kendal, Lorraine knows about it.’
‘Interesting. He’s moved on, then.’
‘There’s no law against it, I suppose’ said Hall evenly, but just slightly as if he thought otherwise.
‘So how do you suggest I proceed?’
‘I thought you might like to meet the happy couple. Let them know, let them both know, that the case is far from closed, and that you are conducting the annual review. Just see what you make of them, really. How does that sound?’
‘I’ll get it sorted today.’
Hall was about to reply when there was a knock at the door followed, a fraction of a second later, by Ray Dixon’s tanned face and suspiciously chestnut brown hair.
‘Sorry to interrupt, boss.’
‘Come in, Ray. Grab a seat. You’ve met Jane?’
‘Oh, aye. I just wanted to run something past you.’
‘You mean you just wanted to cover your arse.’
Dixon smiled. ‘Sally Graham, boss. One of her lads has gone AWOL.’
‘Age?’
‘Fourteen.’
‘Known to us, I expect?’
‘No. That’s the funny thing. The kid’s straight. He really seems to have escaped from the dark side somehow, unlike his scum-bag brothers.’
‘So Sally reported it? That’s unexpectedly public-spirited of her, I must say.’
‘No. One of the teachers at the lad’s school told Kate Straw, from the social, and she flagged the kid as a MISPER. This was on Friday. I’ve got the sheet here, if you want to see it.’ Hall held out his hand, and Jane watched him scan the page quickly, then read it through again.
‘So you followed up?’
‘Aye, yesterday. I phoned Sally, and she told me that the kid was at home, and that he’d be at school today. For definite, like.’
‘But he’s not?’
‘No. Kate’s been on the phone, bending my ear, so I got a couple of uniform to knock Sally up, if you see what I mean.’
Hall smiled. ‘But this lad, Johnny, wasn’t there?’
‘No. Sally’s a bit vague, but isn’t she always? Says she thought the lad was at school.’
‘Is she sticking to her story that he was at home yesterday as well?’
‘Aye, but Nobby Styles gave me a ring, and said he’s sure that she’s lying. You’d think she’d be a bit better at it, after all these years and all the bloody practice she’s had.’
‘So what are you asking, Ray?’
‘Can I prioritise it, Andy? I’ve just got a bad feeling.’
‘Absolutely you can. Take as long as you need. You’re going straight round to Sally’s?’
‘Aye, that’s favourite. I’ll get nowt out of her, but I might find something in the kid’s room.’
‘Good. Tell you what, Jane. Why not head out with Ray here? See how the other half lives.’
Ray Dixon talked all the way to the Graham’s house, on an inter-war estate in a shallow valley on the edge of town. Jane hadn’t noticed it when she’d visited Kendal while she was looking for a house, but she was confident that she’d be getting to know it soon enough.
‘Plenty of our regulars live down here’ confirmed Dixon, as they drove through the estate. ‘When they’re not inside, like.’
‘Are you really concerned about this lad?’
‘Aye. I am. Sally’s a shit mum, and if it had been one of her other lads doing a vanishing act at Jonny’s age I’d probably have breathed a sigh of relief. Hoped he never came back, like. But this one seems different. Like he’s chosen his own path, you know?’
‘Andy certainly seemed worried.’
‘Par for the course, that is. Vulnerable people are his thing, I always say. Why he joined the job in the first place, I reckon. By rights a bloke like that, with his education and that posh voice, he should be a politician, or maybe a vicar. Something like that, anyway. But Andy just wants to try to protect folk who can’t look after themselves from the people who only want to bloody help themselves.’
‘Isn’t that why we all do the job?’
‘Not you too, love? Me, I’m mainly in it for the pension. ‘Index linked’ are the two finest words in the whole bloody English language. You just remember that, lass.’
‘I will.’
‘And just look at Ian. He doesn’t want to help victims, like. He just wants to catch cons, the bad guys, like. That’s why he turns up to work every day. I always say that he’s still fighting a bloody war. He just can’t help himself.’
‘He used to be in the military?’
‘Aye, the Marines or one of them. Some special forces shit, we think.’
‘Christ.’
‘Don’t worry. He’s not one of those coppers who bangs on about his experiences the whole time. Just the opposite in fact. I can never get a word out of him about it all, even when he’s completely pissed-up. But Ian’s the bloke you want to be with when it all kicks off.’
‘Does it? Kick off, I mean?’
Dixon laughed.
‘You wouldn’t think so, to look at the place. But aye, it does. Sally Graham’s brother put a WPC in hospital a while back, as a matter of fact. Depressed fracture of the cheekbone. She was off work for months. Longer than he was inside for, the sick little bastard.’
‘Will he be there today?’
‘Her brother? No, don’t worry. Sally kicked him out months ago, for nicking her gear. Big mistake, that was. Anyhow, here we are.’
‘Will Sally be up yet?’
Dixon was still laughing when he knocked on the door.
Sally Graham came to the door after the third knock. The one that had finally brought out the neighbours on both sides of the Graham’s house.
‘Fuck off, Ray’ she said, but still stood back to let the two officers in. She knew that the alternative was a ride straight down to the station. The curtains were drawn in the li
ving room, and it was very dark. Jane’s eyes were still adjusting when Sally turned on the TV, which lit the place up rather too well. Sally sat down, but she looked like she needed to.
‘Turn the sound down, Sal’ said Dixon. ‘We need to talk.’
‘What’s wrong with the phone? This is harassment, this is.’
‘You know what, you’re right. Come on Jane, let’s be off. We should leave this fine lady to her needlework, or her Bible study.’
Jane was about to turn, but sensed that Dixon hadn’t moved. She glanced across at him and saw that he wasn’t smiling at Sally. If Jane had known him better she might have even said that he looked angry.
‘We’re not going anywhere, because you lied to me, Sally. Made me look a right prat in front of the boss. Of course we’re not bloody going. Not until we get some proper answers, like.’
‘Oh, aye?’
‘Aye. You told me that your lad Johnny was at home when I phoned yesterday, you remember?’
‘I expect he was, then.’
‘So where is he now?’
‘How should I fucking know?’
‘Because you’re his mother.’
‘School then, I expect. He loves school, does Johnny. Never fucking stops going on about it.’
‘No, he’s not at school.’
‘He’s probably just bunking off then. You should tell the social.’
‘They told us, Sal.’
‘There you are then. So why have you come round here?’
‘Do you know where he might have gone to?’
‘No.’
‘What about one of his mates’ houses?’
‘Doubt it. They’ll be at school, like. Right little swots, all his mates are.’
Dixon sighed. ‘Come on Sal, don’t piss us about. Can we see his room?’
‘Why?’
‘We need to find him, Sally. That’s our job. We need to know that he’s safe and well.’
‘Don’t be daft. He’ll be fine. You know what lads his age are like.’
‘Can we see his room?’
‘If I say no you’ll be back, I’m expect?’
‘You know we will. And we’ll bring the big door knocker next time. The one that takes it clean off the hinges.’
‘I don’t care. I’ve complained about that front door loads of times. I could do with a new one anyway.’
‘Like I said, don’t piss us about, Sally.’
‘All right. Upstairs, the one at the back.’
The boy’s room was dirty, but tidy. There was a laptop on the desk, and a mobile next to it. Both officers saw it at the same moment.
‘Shit’ said Dixon.
‘Bollocks’ said Jane. ‘Shall I bag and tag these?’
‘Aye. Then we’d better turn this place over thoroughly. The boss is going to upgrade this investigation as soon as he knows that the kid’s phone is here. They don’t so much as take a piss without their phones, do they?’
The two officers worked methodically. First Dixon checked that Jane had been trained, and then the two searched in silence. The TV was on downstairs, loud, but at least Sally didn’t offer them a brew.
‘Anything?’ asked Dixon, when he’d finished going through the rickety wardrobe.
‘No, nowt. You?’
‘Sod all.’
‘Should we turn over the rest of the place?’
‘I’ll phone the boss. I expect he’ll want a full search team here. Sally will go fucking mental.’
‘Will you warn her about what to expect?’
‘No. It can be a surprise. Let’s get outside, and I’ll call Andy.’
Half an hour later the two officers watched as the van arrived, and Ray took the search warrant from the uniformed sergeant and knocked on Sally’s door. Thirty seconds later he was back in the car, smiling broadly.
‘She went absolutely fucking spare’ he said to Jane, as he fastened his seat belt. ‘You should have heard the names she called me. Quite imaginative, considering. I do love it when we get up their noses, like.’
‘So we’re away?’
‘Aye. Let’s get this computer and phone back to the nick, and hand them over to tech support. Andy will put a rocket under them, but it’ll do sod all good. They’ll have a bloody massive backlog, I expect.’
‘I could do it then. An initial scan, anyway.’
‘What if there are passwords and that?’
‘Then I’d be stuck.’
Dixon thought about it.
‘Tell you what. Why don’t we get these dusted for prints, and then, if the boss agrees, you could maybe take them home tonight and have a quick look, like.’
‘Great, thanks.’
‘All right. We’re late for our break, lass. Fancy grabbing a burger or something?’
‘No, thanks, Ray. I’ve arranged to meet Sandy Smith out at the Moorings caravan park. I need to be there in half an hour actually.’
‘Christ, I better get my foot down then, and get you back to the nick. Sandy does her nut if we’re late to meetings. You haven’t got any buns on you?’
‘Buns?’
‘Cakes, you know.’
‘No.’
‘Doesn’t matter, but a point for future reference. If you’re meeting Sandy then always take some buns. Any buns, it makes no odds.’ Jane nodded agreement, though she was still confused. ‘So the boss has got you looking at the Clark case, has he? Doesn’t surprise me. Usually he’s pretty good at letting the ones that get away go, but he’s had that file on his desk all this time. He reads through it, every week or two. I’ve seen him do it. The husband did it, of course he bloody did, but we never got close to charging him. The CPS made it very clear that the only way we’d get him in court was if he coughed to it, and that was never going to happen. I knew it the first time I met the man. He just stuck to his story, and that was that. No witnesses, no forensics, nothing to place him at the scene.’
‘What about her life insurance? He got a big payout, didn’t he?’
‘Aye. Quarter of a million. But they both bloody worked in insurance, the policy was years old, and he was insured for the same amount. He more or less gave Andy the full bloody sales spiel when he tried to press Clark on the subject. But they’d never rowed, the Clarks, at least not in public, and Clark didn’t have a bit on the side, no debts, nothing. He’s a totally boring bastard, truth be told. So don’t worry if you get nowhere with it, Jane. The boss won’t hold it against you, I promise you that.’
Ray dropped Jane off at her own car, and she used the sat-nav to locate the caravan park. She drove down the access road, stopped by the shop, and looked at the site plan in the file. The caravan she was after was down to the left. But she could have saved herself the stop, because the big white SOCO van just ahead of her was hard to miss. So Jane parked behind it and got out. The van door open and a small woman jumped down.
‘Dr. Smith, I presume?’
‘Call me Sandy, every other fucker does. Anyway, haven’t you got a PhD too?’
‘Yes, I have. How did you know that?’
‘Andy Hall told me, when you took the job. Delighted he was. Sets a lot of store by intelligence, does DI Hall. Not like most coppers. Thick as fucking pig dribble, most of them.’
Jane nodded cautiously. She had absolutely no idea if Sandy was being serious or not.
‘So this is the caravan?’
‘Aye. This one. That’s the flue for the gas fire, just there.’
‘Does it still belong to Clark?’
‘No idea. What do I look like, the fucking Land Registry?’
‘Sorry, just thinking aloud.’
‘Well at least you’re thinking. I bet he’s flogged it though, don’t you? But I doubt he mentioned that he gassed his wife in it, like.’
‘Yes, probably. He’s sold it, I mean. To tell you the truth I was a bit surprised that the fire didn’t cut out or something.’
Sandy looked up at Jane, who was more than a head taller, and nodded.
/>
‘Aye, me too. But we had two different engineers look at it, all properly qualified, and they both said that the fire hadn’t been tampered with, it was just faulty. If we’d got one print or DNA from Clark anywhere but on the front of that fire we’d have had him. But we didn’t. If he fiddled with it then he was really careful. Unbelievably fucking careful.’
‘How about the spuds?’
‘Don’t you start. Andy was on at me about those fucking things for weeks. Nearly put me off chips for life, the bastard. But it’s all in the report. Like I said, the condition of the spuds found on all the outlet pipes suggested that they were put there earlier that same evening. But if they’d been heavily chilled previously it might have been the night before. But my money is on that night.’
‘He turned the fire on, didn’t he?’
‘Aye. His prints were on the starter thing. But he never denied that it was him.’
‘So, if he did do it, did he put the spud on the pipe before or after he turned the fire on?’
A hefty hand hit Jane in the middle of the back.
‘Good question. I can see you’re not just a pretty face, like. There’s nowt in the report to answer that one, is there?’
‘No. I couldn’t see anything.’
‘Well, don’t think I didn’t get asked, because I did. Andy asked it every bloody way he could think of. But I still can’t tell you. It might have been before it was turned on, and it might have been straight after, but before the exhaust gasses got hot, which takes a couple of minutes. I did a few experiments, because Andy was getting his knickers in such a bloody twist about the whole thing, but I still couldn’t tell.’
‘So it did became a bit of an obsession for the DI then?’
‘We’re here now, aren’t we? Both freezing our tits off for absolutely no good reason. Look, Clark was clever. He didn’t over elaborate, he didn’t fuck up, he stuck to his story and he’d previously established a pattern of behaviour that was consistent with his version of events. So Andy couldn’t catch him out in questioning, and I couldn’t come up with any meaningful forensic evidence either. It’s a fucking object lesson in murder, is this.’
‘If it was murder. It still could have been kids.’
The Two Towns (The Lakeland Murders) Page 3