Call & Response

by J. J. Salkeld

  Pepper nodded. ’We already have a suspect, ma’am. My information is that a local criminal is known to be feeling particularly aggrieved about DC Armstrong, and has made no secret of the fact.’

  ‘Does he fit the description of the attacker that we have?’

  ‘In so far as it goes, yes, he does.’

  ‘So you’ll be talking to him?’

  ‘I will. Tonight, in fact.’

  Ben ran out from the side of the bed, his aeroplane swooping and diving in his hand. Mary Clark smiled. ‘This is your son?’

  ‘Ben, yes. But don’t worry, ma’am, he’s not coming with me on enquiries. Coppers may be getting younger, but that would be ridiculous. I’ve made childcare arrangements.’

  ‘Of course. Silly of me.’

  ‘And about the officer on the door, ma’am.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’d suggest that it’s safe to stand him down.’

  ‘Really? Why do you say that, DS Wilson? My understanding is that the procedure is to protect an injured officer, when the assailant is unknown, and where we have reason to believe that the officer was deliberately targeted.’

  ‘Normally I’d agree, ma’am. Nothing is more important to me than Henry’s welfare. But with the relief being so short-handed tonight they need every single bobby they can get, I promise you.’

  ‘All right, Pepper, thanks. Point taken. I’ll have a word with the Duty Inspector, and leave the final decision to him.’

  It was after nine by the time that Pepper got home, and Justin opened the door before she could even get her key in the lock.

  ‘This is a bit late for Ben, isn’t it?’

  ‘He’s had his tea. He’ll be fine. Straight up to do your teeth, and then in to bed, love.’

  ‘I’ll come and read you a story in five minutes’ said Justin, as the boy rushed up the stairs, his model aeroplane climbing ahead of him. They both watched him until he reached the top, then Justin turned back to Pepper.

  ‘Did you have to take him to the hospital? It can’t be good for him.’

  ‘He was fine, and my colleague has a few bumps and bruises, that’s all. He’s not on life support or anything.’

  ‘But that won’t make any difference to you now, will it, Pepper?’

  ‘Too right, it won’t. If the scum-bags think that they can have a pop at a cop whenever they fancy then we’re all buggered. A message needs to be sent out, and it will be.’

  ‘And you have to be the messenger the same as always. And you know who did this, I take it?’

  ‘Absolutely. I’m off to make a house call right now, in fact.’

  ‘Not on your own, surely?’

  ‘I’ll be fine. Gary Flynn may think he can get away with jumping a young DC who’s hardly more worldly-wise than my Ben, but he won’t try it on with me, worst luck. I’d prefer that he did, like, because then I’d be able to give him a hiding that he’d never bloody forget. Maybe I will anyway.’

  Justin scratched at his patchy beard.

  ‘There’s a lot of anger in you, Pepper.’

  ‘Shut it, hippy’ she said, laughing. ‘I’ll not be long. Are you sure that you’re all right to stay for an hour?’

  ‘Of course. But if you’re not back by half ten I’ll be calling the station.’

  ‘You do that. It’d probably take them another hour to respond, anyway. But I’ll be back before you’ve persuaded Ben to switch off his light, I bet you.’

  Pepper drove slowly down the cobbled street, out onto the main road, round the one way system and turned off into the ‘60s housing estate on the western edge of town. The houses reminded her of where she’d grown up, just a few streets away, and she’d always found them depressing. She couldn’t see the house numbers in Flynn’s street, but she didn’t need to, because his Range Rover stood head and shoulders above the other parked cars. She guessed that was pretty much the idea, and she had to resist the urge to give his front bumper a nudge as she parked in front of him.

  Flynn took his time coming to the door, but Pepper didn’t mind. She enjoyed banging on it. When he finally opened the door the sound of a war film followed him out into the street.

  ‘DS Wilson. What a surprise, and all on your own too, I see.’

  ‘I don’t need any help nicking you, Gary.’

  ‘But there does need to be two of you, doesn’t there? If it’s official, I mean. So this is a social call, then?’

  ‘Where were you were between five and six thirty pm today, Gary?’

  ‘Grafting, same as always.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘I was out west, in Whitehaven, doing a bit of business. All legit, like. Recycling, that’s my game these days.’

  ‘That’s what you call it, is it? And your witnesses, they’ll be proper pillars of the community, I expect. Judges, priests, that sort of thing.’

  ‘They’re more honest than any of you lot, I’ll tell you that for nowt.’

  ‘Don’t give me that, Gary. You’re as bent as a nine bob bit. We all know that you were nicking those boilers.’

  ‘Says who? Not a jury, that’s for sure. The charges were all dropped, and you know it. But it’s caused me a lot of grief, I can tell you, being falsely accused like that.’

  ‘Is that why you jumped DC Armstrong like that?’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Is that why you assaulted Henry Armstrong? He’s fine, by the way. You kick like a little girl, Gary. I’m surprised you didn’t just pull his hair and call him names, to tell the truth. Mind you, they’ve always said that you’re a bit, you know…’

  ‘Says who? Who says that? And I never touched that lying bastard. Like I told you, I was bloody miles away from Carlisle.’

  ‘But I never said it happened in Carlisle. How did you know that, Gary?’

  ‘Word gets round, you know. Good news travels fast, like.’

  ‘Oh aye, so who told you then?’

  ‘Don’t remember. Maybe someone tweeted about it. Well, it’s certainly something to celebrate, like.’

  Pepper smiled at him. Flynn didn’t like that, and he had to resist the urge to take a step back. But there was no need to worry. She didn’t move a muscle.

  ‘I’ll be the one celebrating, Gary. And it won’t be long, either. Because you’ve just become my personal priority, a little project if you like.’

  ‘It wasn’t me, love. You’ve got the wrong bloke. I bet that lanky streak of piss has no end of enemies, what with him trying to fit people up all the time. It stands to reason, does that.’

  ‘No, Gary, that’s where you’re wrong. Because Henry Armstrong hasn’t got an enemy in the world, except you, that is. So I know that it was you, as sure that I know that you chose the wrong colour for you car. I mean black; what were you thinking? It looks like an off-road hearse, Gary.’

  ‘Bollocks. It’s the best colour, is that. Everyone says so.’

  ‘It looks like a crap con’s car, Gary. So I’m not surprised that your mates like it. Or say they like it, anyway. Because they’re all laughing at you, Gary. They bloody all are.’

  ‘Don’t waste your time. You’ll not get me to react.’

  ‘I never expected to. You give chickens a bad name, Gary, you’re so scared. I just wanted you to know this, just so we’re clear. I don’t care if it wasn’t you who actually jumped DS Armstrong, because I know that it was you who made it happen, Gary. So it’s you who we’ll be coming after.’

  ‘We? I don’t see any we, DS Wilson. All I see is one solitary copper, wasting my bloody time. I reckon I’d be quite within my rights to eject you from my property.’

  Pepper Wilson laughed in his face.

  ‘I tell you what, Gary, I’ll give you a sporting chance. I’m going to turn round now, and you’re more than welcome to take a pop. Give it your best shot, like, But after that, it’ll be you against me, OK?’

  ‘Just piss off, will you? I’d never touch a copper, not even you. You’re not worth the bloody t
rouble.’

  Thursday, 3rd September

  9.07am, Data analysis suite, Carlisle Divisional HQ.

  ‘So you’re seriously telling me that when you leave the compound surrounding this bloody plate-glass palace there’s no CCTV coverage at all?’

  ‘That’s right, Pepper’ said Mike Bowness, the civilian boss of the data analysis team. ‘Your assailant could have driven into the industrial estate, parked up somewhere nearby, and then strolled up to that footpath, assaulted DC Armstrong, walked back to the vehicle and driven away again.’

  ‘But what about all the businesses on the estate, they must have cameras too?’

  ‘Some of them do, aye, and we’ve been on to the ones that are nearest the locus. But they’ve got nowt. Most of them just use cameras to cover goods in and out, their front doors, all that.’

  ‘Selfish bastards.’

  ‘Aye, exactly. Sorry not be more help. How is the lad, anyway?’

  ‘He’ll live. I think he’s getting out of hospital this morning, and he’ll be back at work in a day or two.’

  The door opened, so hard that it bounced off the rubber stop, and Sandy Smith walked in. She spilled some of her coffee, and swore loudly and inventively. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Pepper. It’s like the Marie Celeste down in your office. The only person I could see was your new lad, and he doesn’t seem able to find his arse with both hands.’

  ‘You leave Rex alone, Sandy. He’s only just started. So you just stick to CSI, there’s a good lass. What have you got for me, anyway?’

  ‘Fuck all. I was only allowed to send out a small team, I’m afraid. And we got called off as soon as it got dark. Don’t look at me like that, Pepper, it was boss’s orders. If I had my way I’d have blitzed the place. Well it’s not bloody on, is it, having a go at a copper like that?’

  ‘But it seems that we don’t all take the same view. Who was it who called you off? Our Super here, I suppose?’

  ‘No, she was busy sorting out a spill in aisle three, I think.’ Bowness laughed, but Pepper didn’t. She wasn’t in the mood. ‘Actually’, Sandy went on, ‘your gaffer was pretty pissed off about it, but the new ACC put her back in her box. If you take my drift, like.’

  ‘Wanker.’

  ‘Exactly. But to tell the truth I’m not sure that even the full team would have got much from the locus. It’s a public path, Pepper. You can’t have expected us to find much, not really.’

  ‘I didn’t. What’s so frustrating is that I know bloody well who did it, or at least who was behind it, and it would have been great to get a bit of something to help me prove it.’

  ‘Oh, aye’ said Bowness, ‘that reminds me. We’ve run that mobile number you gave us. And aye, you’re right, it was talking to a mobile phone mast out west, Whitehaven way, yesterday afternoon and early evening.’

  ‘Shit’, said Pepper, ‘but you’ve checked its history out too, like I asked?’

  ‘Sorry, love’ said Bowness, spreading his hands, ‘my hands are tied, like. He hasn’t phoned any of the numbers on the intelligence watch list, I can tell you that much.’

  Pepper shook her head. ‘Bloody budget cuts. Don’t worry, Mike, it’s not your fault. I’m just going to have to go and do it all for myself. A bit of good old fashioned policing, looking people straight in the eye and daring them to bloody lie to you.’

  ‘But uniform are doing the door-to-door around here, aren’t they?’ said Sandy.

  ‘Oh aye, they are. But this is a half-empty industrial estate. No-one will have seen anything. So I’m going to do a bit of door knocking of my own, round where young Henry lives.’

  ‘Why there?’ asked Bowness.

  ‘Because I think that chummy must have followed Henry from his home to here, and at least once. To check out his route, see.’

  ‘Why not the other way round? Wouldn’t it be easier to pick him up here? You can’t really miss this place, can you?’

  ‘Come on, Mike. Who’s going to hang about outside a cop shop? Especially not a working con. No, the best way would be to follow Henry from home, and do it two or three times to make sure that he doesn’t vary his route. Then choose the best spot to jump him. And, if you think about it, our man chose surprisingly well. Another hundred metres, at the end of that footpath, and Henry would have been out on the main road. And from then on it’s busy all the way back to his flat. So despite the fact that it’s just two minutes from the station it was still a good place to choose. Henry was just lucky that PCSO came along when she did.’

  ‘Proves they’re good for something other than crossing patrol and dog-shit duty, I suppose’ said Sandy, dryly. ‘Tell you what I’ll do, Pepper, seeing as it’s you. When I’ve finished my bloody meeting here I’ll take a stroll round and have another quick look at the locus myself. I just hope I won’t get jumped by some bloke though.’

  ‘No one would dare, Sandy.’

  ‘Too right. I always carry handcuffs, did you know that?’

  ‘So you can make a citizen’s arrest?’

  ‘No. Fuck that for a game of soldiers. It’s so I can stop them from bloody getting away.’

  Sandy leered at Mike Bowness, who looked uncomfortable.

  ‘I’ll leave you two to it, then’ said Pepper. ‘I’ve got Council Tax payers to annoy.’

  The flat that Henry Armstrong lived in was in a large Edwardian villa close to the city centre. She rang all the bells on the intercom, and didn’t get any reply. So she started working her way through the flats and houses on either side of Armstrong’s, and on the other side of the road too. She’d done the same thing hundreds of times before in the course of her career, and one thing was always the same. The people who were at home during the day fell in to two major groups, and they were both utter pains in the arse. The first lot were usually over sixty, invariably polite, garrulous and often extremely observant - though usually of entirely the wrong things. So she’d be stuck on the doorstep - or worse still be trapped inside drinking a ‘nice cup of tea’ - for ten minutes before it was possible to determine whether or not they could be of the slightest use. Some of Pepper’s colleagues were great with them, and she often wondered how they managed to remain so patient, and apparently interested. She just seemed to make the old farts nervous and confused, which only made matters worse for everyone.

  And then there was the other type, the younger people who were at home during the day because they were on benefits. And they were much more annoying. Even the ones that Pepper didn’t know - and so who probably didn’t have records - were resentful when they came to the door, as if they’d just been dragged away from something very, very important. It got on her nerves, she knew that it showed, and she didn’t care. They’d sponged so bloody long, most of them, that they’d come to think of cops as an extension of social services. But at least the bastards usually didn’t offer her a brew, which was something.

  As she’d expected there were more of the second category about on that day, and in that street. The houses were big, draughty, and had almost all been split up into flats by private sector landlords getting fat on housing benefit payments. Pepper often fantasised about nicking one of them for something really serious, but it never happened.

  As Pepper knocked on her twentieth door she calculated that she’d actually spoken to two old farts and seven spongers, which was about what she expected. And this particular house had to be full of spongers, because it had the look. Peeling paint, a scruffy front garden and a front door that looked as if it had endured more changes of lock than was good for its structural integrity.

  ‘All right, Pepper?’ said a middle-aged man, when he answered the door. For a moment Pepper didn’t recognise him, although the can of extra-strength lager in his hand looked all too familiar.

  ‘Tom Jessop, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right, aye. We used to live two doors up from you, when you were a kid. I’ve seen you once or twice, like, when I’ve been down the nick.’

>   ‘Sorry, I didn’t notice.’ She didn’t ask why he’d been there, because she really didn’t care. ‘Listen, Tom, I wanted to ask you about something. Have you seen anyone hanging around here, in the last week or two, say?’

  Jessop laughed, coughed and took a drink from the can. Pepper smelt the beer on his breath, sweet and stale.

  ‘Hanging about? They don’t do much else, not round here, lass.’

  ‘Anyone unusual, then? Not from the area, say.’

  ‘Give us a clue, love.’

  ‘That’s not how it works, Tom.’

  ‘Is there a bit of money in it? A reward, like?’

  ‘Why? Have you seen something?’

  ‘No. I was only asking.’

  ‘Well there’s not. So you can’t help?’

  ‘Sorry, love. No, I can’t help. By the way, have you seen your old man lately?’

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘I saw him, that’s all, just the other day. Outside the bookies. He always talks about you, love. About how proud he is, like.’

  ‘Aye, well’, said Pepper, turning to go.

  ‘Never learns though, does he? Never bloody learns.’

  On the drive back Pepper thought, very briefly, about what Jessop had said. She hadn’t bothered to ask what he’d meant about her dad, because she genuinely didn’t care about him. It had taken every one of her thirty five years, but he was completely on his own now. If he’d done a bit of parenting when she was a child, then maybe she’d do a bit of daughtering now. He’d said that he’d change to her mum, so many times, and later to her too, and it had always been a lie. Every single time. And she’d long since stopped thinking about why he was the way he was, except in one very specific regard. Because whatever happened she swore that her son would never, ever go the same way. If she was watching TV when Ben was in the room and one of those bloody betting ads came on, showing lads having fun while they were pissing their families’ futures away, she turned over, or muted the sound. Those bastards wouldn’t get her Ben. Not if she had anything to do with it.