by Salkeld, J J
Greg Barnes, AKA Tonto, was the first of the SOCO team to arrive.
‘I’m keeping everyone as far away from the bench as I can’ said Hall, ‘especially right behind it. It looks like the killer came up on him from behind.’
‘You’re learning, Andy, thanks. As soon as the snapper arrives I’ll make a start. Who is our bench-sitter anyway?’
‘Trevor Royal. I was due to meet him here, but I was late.’
‘And now he is, eh?’
Hall didn’t smile.
‘Sorry, mate’ said Tonto, ‘I didn’t mean anything by it. So you’re thinking that the victim was garroted, and that the assailant came up on him from behind?’
‘Unless the Doc takes a different view, yes. But looking at him I don’t think it was sunstroke. So just do your best to find me anything that helps. Like you say I’m certainly going to need it. There’s no CCTV covering this spot as far as I can see, and our killer could have come from either side of the river, so unless you and the team can come up with something for me we may end up relying on all these potential eye-witnesses, God help us.’
There was quite a crowd gathering behind the tape, and Hall could see Jane Francis, a couple of uniforms and the Specials trying to corral anyone who looked like they might have seen something.
‘So the killer will turn out to be a tall, short, hairy, bald transsexual wearing black, orange, blue and yellow, and our witnesses always knew that he, or she, was up to something? Form the first moment they clapped eyes on him, or her, they knew, right? It’s like a sixth sense they have.’
Hall managed a faint smile. ‘Pretty much. To be honest villains usually make more sense than the general public, because at least we know that they’re lying deliberately. With Joe Public it’s usually accidental.’
‘Well look, Andy, if there’s any physical evidence, we’ll find it for you, don’t worry.’
A couple of SOCO vans turned up as they were speaking, and Doc Beech’s Jaguar was right behind. Tonto and the photographer set off for the bench, and Hall got every available uniform to start looking for witnesses. ‘Ask Jane to stand down her Specials and send them home as soon as they pass over any witnesses’ he said. ‘But thank them for their help. We’ll take it from here.’
It was DC Ray Dixon’s first day back at work, after he’d been seriously assaulted on a job, and he was still confined to office duties.
‘Sorry to wake you, Ray’ said Hall when he phoned.
‘Don’t worry boss. It’s bloody panic stations here, no-one could sleep through it, not even me. Who was this Royal character anyway? I’ve never heard of him.’
‘That was the whole idea, Ray. He grassed up the Cafferty lad on those killings in Liverpool last year, and for some reason he decided to come here with his shiny new identity and his thirty pieces of silver.’
‘I guessed as much. They’re running round like blue-arsed flies here, so I knew he had to be Royal by more than name. So who knew about him then?’
‘At the station? Me, Ian and the Super. Beyond that, I don’t know. No-one I hope. The CPS is going to go bloody mental, because without Royal’s evidence the re-trial will probably collapse.’
‘So no problem with the motive then, boss.’
‘True enough. Look Ray, make a start on getting all the CCTV collated, and order up Royal’s phone records and anything else you can find. First job is to try to spot our killer, and then work out how the Cafferty’s hit-man found our boy.’
‘Will do. By the way, Robinson is on his way out to you now, and I hear that the Chief has sent Val Gorham down too.’
‘And I thought that my day couldn’t get any better.’
‘Look on the bright side, boss. It’s a lovely day to be outside.’
‘This is nice’ said Terry Walker, putting his beer bottle down.
‘You what?’ shouted Kylie, his wife. She looked ten years younger than Terry, but was actually twenty years his junior. But then he’d never worked a day in his life, and he moisturised on the quiet.
‘I said this is nice, in the garden like. First time this year.’
‘Aye. Shall I turn down the music a bit? You know next door doesn’t like it.’
‘Nah. Who doesn’t like a bit of Sabbath? And she should be grateful it’s not something really heavy.’
Kylie doubted that this thought had crossed their neighbour’s mind, but she knew better than to say anything. ‘Another beer?’ she asked instead, glancing up at the back bedroom window of her neighbour’s house. Eleanor Barrow was looking down at them, and Kylie shrugged slightly, and looked away quickly. She didn’t want to know if Eleanor was crying again or not. So she went back in to the house, and looked in the fridge for another cold one. There weren’t any, so she took a few from the case under the stairs and put a couple in the freezer, on top of the frozen chips. Then she went upstairs and waited for Terry to shout for her again, or for his beer.
Twenty minutes later she came back downstairs. She hadn’t heard Terry call for her, but maybe he’d gone and found the beer himself. When she looked out of the window she could see that he was fast asleep on the lounger, his head lolling to one side. She went in to the sitting room and turned the stereo off.
But a few minutes later the shouting started, and she hurried outside. Her husband was out of his chair, and facing Eleanor Barrow across what was left of the fence between their gardens.
‘Don’t you tell me what I can do in my own fucking garden’ he shouted.
Kylie wasn’t close enough to hear what Eleanor was saying, and in any case she knew that Terry would be shouting her down anyway.
‘She should be in a fucking home’ Terry was shouting, pointing at Eleanor. Kylie was glad that Terry’s kids hadn’t quite managed to demolish the fence with their endless games of football, because it kept Terry on their side of the boundary. At least it did for now.
‘This is her home’ said Eleanor. ‘I’ve been up most of the night with her. Can’t you give us any peace? Haven’t you got an ounce of compassion?’
‘She’s a freak, and you’re no better. Now you better fuck off out of it, or I’m going to come over and give you a hiding. You hear me?’
But Eleanor was standing her ground, and Kylie knew what that could lead to. She didn’t want to, but she’d have to get involved. ‘Come on, Terry, you promised me the last time’ said Kylie. ‘Why ruin a lovely day?’
‘She’s already done that’ said Terry, starting to turn back towards the house, then changing his mind. ‘So you remember what I said. You’ve wasted your life on that kid, but don’t think you’re going to ruin mine too.’
‘I’m going to call the Police’ said Eleanor.
Terry laughed in her face. Twenty seconds later the music was back on, and it was louder than ever. Kylie wanted to say something to Eleanor, but she’d gone inside. It wouldn’t be worth it anyway. Nothing would change. Not now, not ever.
On Gooseholme it was actually properly warm, and Hall watched a couple of joggers run by wearing T-shirts. He hadn’t seen that since the previous September. SOCOs had erected their white canopy over the bench, and Tonto was gradually working his way out, away from where Royal had died. The Doc had been and gone, and the body had been moved too. There’d been no point in hanging about.
‘There won’t be any surprises at the PM’ Doctor Beech had said before he climbed back into his Jaguar. ‘Cause of death is obvious enough. Very professional job I’d say. He was dead in a heartbeat.’
‘And time?’
‘Oh, about thirty seconds before you arrived I’d say’ said Beech, starting the Jag’s engine. Bad news travels fast, thought Hall. He wanted to smash his fist down on the car’s roof.
‘Tell me something I want to hear, Tonto’ said Hall, as Tonto strolled over. ‘I really could do with some good news before Robinson gets here.’
‘How about the killer’s initials scratched into the wood?’
‘That would be nice.’
&n
bsp; ‘Well, you’re in luck, because I can give you the next best thing. Pair of impressions from shoes right behind the victim. So we’ll be able to tell you more when the casts have been examined. But no sign of the ligature, although he may have thrown it into the river. Pretty sure there’s shallow water near the bank, so I could have a look now myself now if you like, before the divers arrive. But even if he did chuck it in here it’s probably half way to Morecambe Bay by now.’
‘Good idea Tonto, thanks. That’s above and beyond the call of duty. But it’s a nice afternoon for a paddle anyway.’
Superintendent Robinson never did turn up at the crime scene, but he did phone Hall and ask him what time he could be back at the station. Hall said he’d call him back with an ETA, then held an impromptu meeting with Jane Francis and Charlie Coward, the uniformed inspector at the scene and the only one who from Kendal station who Andy really rated. He was glad it was Coward who was on duty. When they’d agreed on how to deal with the potential witnesses that they’d already found, and who’d front the TV appeal for even more, Hall called Robinson and set off for the station. He’d suggested to Charlie that they have a proper meeting in the CID office at 8pm.
Hall hitched a ride back with a uniformed PC, who drove in awkward silence. So the lads already had this one marked down as a damaging cock-up, and Hall’s cock-up at that. Nevertheless, Hall thanked him as politely as if the ride had been a huge favour, and then stood on the station steps and phoned Ian Mann again. This time his call went straight to voice-mail.
Before he knocked and opened the door Hall already knew that Robinson wouldn’t be alone in his office. And sure enough Inspector Val Gorham, the Chief’s personal reputational bodyguard, was sitting next to him at the meeting table. As ever each of them was as immaculate as the other, and if their brains were half as bright as their buttons then Royal’s killer didn’t stand a chance. Hall brought them up to date on the investigation, but Robinson seemed more interested in the hour or so leading up to Royal’s death, and Hall had a pretty good idea why.
‘So you received this call from Royal at around twelve-thirty?’
‘Yes, it came via the switchboard, so it will have been logged and recorded.’
‘And what did you do then?’
‘I asked your secretary for the file.’
‘Why?’
‘I wanted to see what Royal looked like. All I knew was the name. Ian had been dealing with him. As you know we all kept to a need-to-know protocol on this one.’
‘So what did you do when you couldn’t get access to the file?’
‘I phoned Ian to get a description.’
‘From your office phone?’ asked Val Gorham.
‘No, from my mobile.’
She raised her eyebrows, but Hall didn’t respond. He didn’t need to justify his action. ‘And what did you tell him on your mobile?’ continued Gorham.
‘That I had to meet Royal, and needed a description.’
‘Did you mention where you were meeting?’
Hall had known this was coming.
‘I did.’
Gorham feigned a look of shock and surprise. She didn’t do it all that well either.
‘Let me get this straight, Inspector. You told a former officer, who may well be facing very serious criminal charges relating to the deaths of two people, where you were meeting an extremely high-value informant?’
‘What are you implying Val?’ said Hall. ‘If Ian had wanted to sell Royal out he could have done so at any time. He knew where he was living, everything about him. And Ian’s not a former officer, he’s suspended from duty, unless you know something that I don’t but should. And the two men who died were trying to kill Ian, not to mention myself and DC Dixon, when he was involved in a highly successful undercover operation. Those two men were engaged in serious criminality at the time too. It may have been an Abbey, but they were no choirboys I assure you.’
‘I’m sure Inspector Gorham isn’t implying anything Andy, merely trying to ascertain the facts’ said Robinson smoothly. ‘And the fact is that Ian Mann, Detective Sergeant Mann, did know where you were meeting Royal.’
‘Yes.’
‘And also that the meeting was imminent?’
‘Yes, I think that would have been obvious to him from the context.’
‘Did you mention why Royal had asked to meet?’
‘No, I wasn’t certain. And there wasn’t time. The call to Ian can’t have lasted longer than twenty seconds or so.’
‘Did he know where you were calling from?’ asked Gorham, looking up from her notes.
Hall looked at her with a new respect. He wondered if he’d have thought to ask the same question. He saw immediately why she had done so, and he rather doubted that he would have.
‘No, he didn’t ask, and I didn’t mention where I was. So for all he knew I might have already been there, waiting for Royal. So in fact there’s no way that he could have known that I wasn’t already at, or very close to, the rendezvous.’
Both Gorham and Robinson had been sitting bolt upright in their chairs, as if they only articulated at the hips, but now Gorham leant forward slightly.
‘You seem very keen to convince us that Ian Mann had nothing to do with Royal’s death.’
‘I don’t need to do that. Ian Mann had nothing to do with what happened to Royal.’
‘How often have you seen Ian since he was suspended?’
‘Not very often. I had a drink with him soon after, and it was awkward for both of us. We both saw that. So since then he’s been keeping his distance I think. But he knows that I’m totally behind him, and that won’t change.’
‘So you didn’t know that he was cautioned for a breach of the peace last weekend?’
‘No. Where?’
‘In Morecambe, so off our patch. But of course word soon got back.’
Hall was astonished, but he did his best not to show it. He recognised in Mann the same self-control that he knew he possessed, and which prevented him from ever becoming really drunk. His wife said he had no spontaneity in his soul, and she was right of course. But if she’d really wanted spontaneity then why had she left him for an accountant, even if he was Certified?
‘Ian has been under a lot of stress, quite understandably’ said Hall cautiously, ‘so no-one can blame him for letting off a little steam now and again.’
Val Gorham looked doubtful, and convincingly so this time. Hall didn’t blame her; he wasn’t convinced either.
‘He’s been seen with Ben Brockbank too’ she added.
This time Hall was annoyed. That was more than unwise. Brockbank was awaiting reports after pleading guilty to a variety of charges concerning the theft of machinery and animals, and Mann should have kept his distance.
‘Val, you can’t seriously think that someone like Brockbank is mixed up in the killing of an organised crime informant from Liverpool? His idea of the underworld is his nearest rabbit warren. And why would Ian get mixed up in something like this anyway? It would go against absolutely everything he’s ever worked for.’
‘The Caffertys would have someone paid a great deal of money to carry out this killing, and a good deal more just for the information about where Royal was. The Merseyside force hasn’t stopped shouting at us yet, but I did gather from what I could understand of what they said that there was half a million in it for the person who told them where Royal was. And that’s a lot of money to give up someone like Royal.’
‘Ian’s not remotely interested in money.’
‘He might be, when he loses his job.’
‘If he loses his job, Val. You don’t know the man, and I do. I can tell you now that the chances of me being wrong about this are precisely zero.’
Val Gorham looked at him shrewdly. ‘Zero, really? I’d have thought that an experienced detective like you would know better than to think that you could ever know anyone so perfectly.’
Was that a veiled reference to his personal life? If it was Ha
ll had no intention whatever of rising to the bait. ‘Look, I’m sure you’ll be talking to Ian, so unless you want me for anything else I have a team briefing to go to. Unless you intend to relieve me of responsibility for this investigation, that is?’
‘Oh no, Andy’ said Robinson quickly, ‘there’s no question of that. But yes, we will be talking to Ian Mann, immediately after this interview in fact.’
Hall walked slowly back to his office, trying to re-engage with the case, and not think about Ian Mann, sitting in an interview room and being treated as a suspect, and someone suspected of conspiracy to murder at that. Like most coppers Hall couldn’t remember if he’d ever believed that life was fair, but north of twenty years in the job he certainly didn’t anymore. Still, Ian deserved better than this, and even the likes of Val Gorham should acknowledge that. But he knew that wasn’t about to happen, so all he could do to help Ian in the short term was to make progress quickly, and to prove that the information about Royal’s true identity hadn’t come from Ian Mann.
As soon as he walked into the CID room he could sense that everyone was tense, the room was a bit too quiet, and energy levels seemed low. At this time in the investigation everyone should be buzzing. So there was absolutely no need to check if they knew that Ian Mann was being interviewed, because they’d all know already, and they wouldn’t be happy about it. And if they didn’t know then they had no business being cops.