Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)

by Salkeld, J J

  He rang off, and spent the rest of the drive with the radio turned off. He’d read the notes that Sheridan had sent him about Tom Cafferty’s conviction for a double murder, but they raised more questions than they answered. Why would a lad who had been to a good school and was at university kill two mid-level drug dealers during his summer vacation? And why do it in front of witnesses, and with the knowledge of the late Neil Williams, amongst others? Because even if Tom did intend to enter the family firm, or was even already involved, he must have known that he had absolutely no need to carry out the killings himself. It had been stupidly reckless, and the Caffertys hadn’t done so well for themselves by being either. Because in Hall’s limited experience of organised crime it was a kind of Darwinian meritocracy, and the weak, the slow and the foolish tended to be consumed by the younger, hungrier animals.

  Hall really didn’t get it, but that didn’t worry him too much. Because he’d long-since stopped trying to impose his own values and morality on the actions of offenders. Within a few months of joining the job he’d realised that a copper isn’t there to change people, or to help them, he’s there to nick them. But he also had arranged to get a background briefing from DI Sheridan before they interviewed Billy Cafferty, and based on their phone conversations he had the impression that Sheridan was the kind of bloke who’d be much more helpful when nothing was being written down. So he reckoned that Sheridan might be able to fill in at least a few of the many gaps in the written file.

  Hall’s sat-nav tried to take him down a one-way street near Sheridan’s station, which was just south of the city centre, but eventually Hall managed to park a couple of minutes walk away. Sheridan came down and met Hall at the front desk, didn’t mention that he was late, and suggested that they go out for a coffee. ‘The stuff in here tastes like those beans that some monkey has shat out, except ours is made with the shit, not the coffee beans.’

  They seemed to know Sheridan in the coffee shop near the station, although Hall thought that Sheridan, a wiry man about ten years younger than himself, seemed plenty wired enough, even before he started on his double expresso. And he certainly talked fast enough. So Hall sat back, sipped his latte, and listened.

  ‘You’re wondering why a kid like Tom Cafferty would take out a couple of low-lifes like that himself?’ said Sheridan, and Hall didn’t even have time to nod before he went on. ‘He’s a bright lad, and he could easily have lived for life on the straight money that the Caffertys have. They’ve been opening those cheap shops all round town lately, which we hear was his idea. He was doing business studies at uni apparently. Anyway, as far as we can tell he wanted to prove himself in the family business, and Billy made some comment about the two jokers that Tom shot needing to be dealt with, and the lad decided to do it himself. So the word is that Billy feels guilty about the whole thing, and he’s been moving heaven and earth to find Williams and have him taken out. They say that there was a huge price on his head. It may be wild talk, but I’ve heard a million quid mentioned. Yeah, really, a million. So your garotte killer could be from Christ-knows-where. They could have flown him in from anywhere where life is cheap. So parts of Liverpool would certainly be in the frame.’ Sheridan allowed himself a truncated laugh. ‘But is Billy behind this? You can bet your pension on it. Will we get anything out of him today? Not a flicker. He’ll dead-bat us like the pro that he is. But I expect that’s exactly what you expect? Well, you won’t be disappointed.’

  Sheridan reached for his coffee cup, and Hall grabbed the opportunity to ask a question.

  ‘We’ve been looking at any cases where a garotte has been used in Britain, going back ten years, and there are hardly any. Is that why you mentioned the possibility that our killer might be from overseas?’

  ‘That kind of close-quarters, hands-on killing feels like British ex-military, all that special forces stuff, or it was done by a professional killer, either local or from overseas somewhere. Down here the diet and the ciggies are the most likely thing to kill you, but after that it’s knives and guns every time. Most of our cons couldn’t even spell garotte, let alone use one. I’ve been in the job here for nearly twenty years, and I’ve never known one be used.’

  ‘How about the kid? How’s he held up in prison?’

  ‘Billy must be proud. He’s kept his mouth shut from the minute we nicked him. I was starting to think that the silver spoon in his mouth had blocked his windpipe, he was that quiet. When he was inside he was treated like royalty, as you’d expect. And of course he’ll be out in a few days anyway.’

  ‘You don’t seem too concerned about it.’

  Sheridan shrugged. ‘What can you do? If Williams had taken our advice and gone abroad we’d have had every chance at the re-trial, but without him we’re buggered. And the two low-lifes who Tom took out won’t be missed. Not by us anyway.’

  ‘You said that Tom wanted to prove himself to his brother. But surely the Cafferty brothers don’t actually get their own hands dirty, do they?’

  Sheridan smiled, and fine lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. For the first time he took a breath before replying.

  ‘You don’t get a lot of gangland bosses up in sheep-shagger country I suppose, so you maybe don’t know how it works. You see Billy Cafferty isn’t like the MD of some company, who gets to be in charge because the shareholders or some shit say he is. If Billy wasn’t hard some ambitious underling would kill him, because that’s how you get promoted in that world. They’re not playing at it, Andy. When you meet Billy ignore the smart suit and the manicure, because that bastard has got blood under his fingernails. We just don’t know whose it is, that’s all.’

  ‘So Billy has gone out and done killings himself?’

  ‘You can be sure of it, Sherlock. We hear whispers, but you can bet that every one of his soldiers knows exactly what he’s capable of. And the boy was just trying to follow in his brother’s footsteps, and his old man’s too.’

  ‘His old man?’

  ‘Billy Senior. Died of natural causes about five years ago. Built the whole empire up from nothing. He came over from the old country in the late fifties with ten bob in his pocket, and now they’re worth millions, and that’s just the legitimate business. So young Tom has got plenty to come back out to.’

  ‘You’re certain he will get out?’

  ‘Yep. The CPS would throw in two towels if it had more than one. We’re buggered, and Billy knows it. So he’ll be as smug as fuck when we talk to him. So come on, we don’t want to be late for the great man.’

  It was getting windy, and Sheridan ducked into the doorway of a boarded-up shop when his mobile rang. Hall thought he must be getting old, because he hadn’t even heard it. Sheridan held up his hand, and beckoned Hall into the doorway. He held a hand over the mouthpiece.

  ‘We’ve found your Beemer. Burned out on waste ground out near the airport. Sounds like a proper Toxteth barbie. SOCO is on the way anyway.’

  Sheridan hung up, and they walked quickly back to the station. Hall was getting slightly out of breath by the time they got there, but he noticed that Sheridan wasn’t.

  ‘So an overseas hit just got more likely’ said Hall, looking at Sheridan. ‘Good guess, Tony.’

  ‘I have my moments. Might be what someone wants us to think of course, but we’ll get a check done on all the boarding records from 2.30pm yesterday until this morning. But a pro would be travelling on a nicked passport for sure anyway. But we can but try, can’t we?’

  ‘Can you make sure we get all the CCTV off the gates? At the very least we might be able to show it to an eye witness.’

  ‘Why, have you got one?’ asked Sheridan, turning back to Hall.

  ‘Possibly, it’s still early days. I wouldn’t ignore the possibility anyway.’

  Billy Cafferty was every bit as well dressed as Sheridan had promised, and if Hall hadn’t already seen a photo he wouldn’t have been able to guess which of the two men in the room was the gang boss, and which was the five hun
dred quid an hour lawyer. But when they spoke it was easy enough to tell.

  ‘I do hope that this won’t take long’ said the lawyer smoothly. ‘My client is a very busy man.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve got a welcome home party to organise.’ Cafferty’s voice had a gruff, hard edge, as if he was used to having to talk over the noise of machinery.

  ‘Nothing’s decided yet, Billy.’

  ‘Tom was fitted up. We both know it. Now, what do you want this time? Tax disc on the Bentley expired or something?’

  ‘I wanted to introduce you to a colleague from Cumbria, DI Andy Hall, and ask you a few questions.’

  To Hall’s surprise Cafferty got up and offered his hand. They all heard Hall’s knuckles crack under the pressure. But nothing in Cafferty’s expression said it was deliberate. Sheridan laughed out loud.

  ‘Be nice now, Billy. Sorry Andy, he’s always like this with new people. Anyway, Billy, let’s start with the easy ones first, shall we. Where were you yesterday, between mid-morning and late afternoon?’

  ‘That is an easy one. I was with the architect at our new shop site here in town in the morning, and I was with Mr. Carter here in the afternoon. I was there when we heard that someone had got Williams in fact.’

  ‘I can confirm that’ said Carter. ‘Mr. Cafferty arrived at my office at 2pm, and was with me and a number of colleagues until after 4pm. I can certainly provide their names if required.’

  ‘Don’t bother’ said Sheridan. ‘So Billy, what can you tell us about the death of Neil Williams?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘So you’re saying that you weren’t involved in any way?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘But you wanted to see him dead?’

  ‘What my client wishes for, in his private moments, is no business of yours Inspector. Your only concern is what my client has done, and he’s already told you that he had no involvement in this regrettable turn of events.’

  ‘Billy?’

  ‘What he said.’

  ‘But you do stand to benefit from Williams’ death?’

  ‘My brother is innocent. He would have been released anyway. So it made no odds to me.’ Cafferty sat back, and his expensive suit shifted to accommodate his broad shoulders. ‘Can your mate actually talk then, Tony? He’s come a long way just to sit there.’

  Sheridan smiled and sat back in his chair. Hall took his time before he said anything.

  ‘Do you know why Williams decided to inform on your brother? On you too in a way.’

  ‘He was a lying bastard. He was just in it for the money from you lot.’

  ‘A rented house and a couple of hundred pounds a week? And a life spent looking over his shoulder. I don’t think so, Mr. Cafferty. Williams told the truth about your brother for one reason, and one reason only. It was because you aren’t scary enough any more. You’re losing your grip, and your brother knew it too. That’s why he killed those two dealers. Five years ago they wouldn’t have dared to turn up on your turf, but now it’s open season on the Caffertys, isn’t that right?’

  ‘Inspector, I don’t know how you conduct interviews in’, the lawyer looked down at his notes, ‘Kendal, but here we tend to try to stick to specific questions, relating to matters of fact. Do you have such a question for my client?’

  ‘I don’t. I just wanted to let him know that his ship is sinking, and that it won’t be long before another rat swims our way. You’ve been informed on before Mr. Cafferty, and it will happen again.’

  ‘Now let me tell you something’ said Cafferty, holding up his hand to stop his lawyer speaking. ‘I haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re talking about, but two things I do know. One is that Neil Williams is dead, so someone must have grassed him up, because he would have been too shit scared to ever give it away himself, I promise you that. Someone from your side of the table I expect it was, Inspector. Greedy bastards, coppers are. Maybe it was you, I don’t know. And the second thing I know is that you’d never speak to me like that anywhere else, not outside this room. You haven’t got the guts. I know who you are Inspector Hall, I know everything about you.’

  ‘Well you certainly rattled his cage’ said Sheridan, when Cafferty and the lawyer had gone.

  ‘It might help shake his confidence a bit, get him to do something daft.’

  ‘Nice try, but you don’t know Billy Cafferty. Anyway, do you want to go and see this burnt out Beemer?’

  Hall followed Sheridan’s Vauxhall out to the area of waste ground where what was left of the X5 had been found. As soon as he saw it Hall knew that they’d get nothing from the car, and the SOCO soon confirmed it.

  ‘Very nice job, and this one wasn’t short of a bob or two neither.’

  ‘How can you tell?’

  ‘They used a good two or three gallons of petrol, and that’s not cheap these days. They did the inside thoroughly, the boot, the tyres, even under the bonnet. And they opened the filler cap to make sure the tank went up too. Like I say, a very nice job.’

  ‘OK, thanks mate’ said Sheridan. ‘So we’ll have to track the vehicle instead. We’ll pick it up coming back into the city on the ANPR, and we should be able to cross-reference back to CCTV as well no problem, but I reckon our bird has flown, long since too.’

  ‘So you’re thinking he was going to the airport? How far away is it?’

  ‘About a mile or two. Look, can you can see them taking off over there.’

  ‘So did our man walk or get a lift? If he doused the car in petrol himself he must have been really careful.’ Hall called out to the SOCO. ‘Did you find the container that was used to carry the petrol?’

  ‘No. We’re still looking for any signs that it was left in the car.’

  ‘How about overalls, anything like that?’

  ‘We may never know. We could find out, but I don’t think we’ll have the lab time on this one.’

  The SOCO looked across at Sheridan, who shrugged. ‘You know how it is, Andy, cutbacks, all that shit. But why are you asking?’

  ‘Just trying to get a picture. It might help us establish if our man torched the car himself, or if someone else did it for him, and then maybe drove him to the airport. Later on, we might be able to follow up on all the drop-offs at about the right time if our man got a lift.’

  ‘Do we know when this happened?’

  ‘Probably yesterday’ said the SOCO, ‘the steel on the floorpan is still a degree or two above ambient. So let’s say anywhere between late afternoon and midnight.’

  ‘Thanks’ said Hall. ‘Any chance of witnesses?’

  Sheridan just laughed. ‘But we’ll do what we can to see the car on the way here, and then see if we can pick up our man at the airport as well. OK?’

  Hall made some calls as he drove back. The evening rush hour had started, so he had plenty of time.

  It was nearly seven before Hall reached the station. Someone he didn’t recognise was sitting at Ian Mann’s desk, and Jane Francis wasn’t at hers. Hall wondered if she’d gone home. He didn’t wonder for long, because Jane and Charlie Coward walked back in to the office a minute or two later. Jane had a coffee for him.

  ‘You were spotted arriving’ said Jane, by way of explanation.

  They’d spoken on the phone forty-five minutes before, so Hall was pretty sure that he was up to speed, but something about the look on Jane’s face told him he was wrong.

  ‘We know where the X5 was parked. It was down a side road, just where Charlie guessed. A two minute walk to Gooseholme, tops. We’ve got two witnesses who saw it, both reliable.’

  ‘But they didn’t see the driver?’

  ‘No, and there’s no CCTV coverage there either. The driver could have walked from the car back on to Gooseholme, killed Williams and walked back to the car without being picked up once.’

  Hall sat back and thought. He made a coupe of notes, something he always did when he’d had an idea. ‘Well done, both of you. Nice guessing too Charlie, unless you’re our m
an with the knotted cord, in which case you’re under arrest. But a couple of thoughts occur. First, that if he parked and walked back, with Williams out of sight for a couple of minutes at least, can we safely assume that our killer already knew where Williams was going, and why?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that’ said Coward. ‘And I don’t think we can. I think it’s possible that he saw Williams start to head across Gooseholme, realised that he couldn’t follow in the car, so parked as soon as he could, then followed on foot. He would have been delighted to spot Williams sitting on the bench if that’s the case. And one thing that supports that idea is that one of our wits says that the reason they noticed the X5 was because it was badly parked, with one big fat wheel up on the kerb.’

  ‘Typical BMW driver’ added Jane, smiling at Hall.

  ‘All right, let’s not stereotype’ he said, smiling back. ‘We’ve all been on the course. OK, so let’s work from Charlie’s premise. It’s possible that our killer knew exactly where Williams was headed, but it’s also possible that he didn’t, and was improvising. So did anyone see a man running from where the car was parked towards Gooseholme?’

  ‘Shall I pass that on to the press office to get out with the next public appeal?’ asked Jane.

  ‘Yes, but has Tonto come back with anything on those impressions? We can add that in if so.’

  ‘He has. Our man wore a size ten shoe and weighed about 85 kilos. They think he is likely to be either side of six feet in height, and probably between 20 and 40. Nothing distinctive about the shoes though, Tonto doesn’t even know what they are.’

  ‘But not trainers?’

  ‘No, normal shoes with a heel.’

  ‘I didn’t know that anyone under 40 still wore those’ said Coward. ‘So we’re looking for a man in full evening dress by the sounds of it.’

  ‘With spats’ added Hall, and Coward laughed and nodded. ‘But look, even if we don’t know for certain whether our killer knew exactly where Williams was going we do know that our man was in a car, not on foot. So what does that tell us? Anything? And where had he followed him from, his house or somewhere else? Jane, how long before I found the body did the killer arrive in Kendal?’