Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)

by Salkeld, J J

  ‘I didn’t throw nothing.’

  ‘I saw you with a bottle in your hand. Where is it now then, if you didn’t throw it?’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  ‘No Terry, you need to clean up this mess you made.’

  Walker turned unsteadily, and started to walk off.

  ‘I’ll have you, you perv’ he shouted, when he was some distance away.

  Mann watched him go, then went inside and got a dustpan and brush. He was having a cup of tea with Eleanor, and chatting about people who they’d both known at school, when a young PC called Baxter turned up. He kept calling Mann ‘Sarge’ and took twenty minutes taking the details of the incident. Then he went next door, and came back about ten minutes later.

  ‘Terry’s not in, and Kylie said she didn’t hear anything. But I’ll pass this on to Nobby when he’s back on shift. I’m sure he’ll be in touch.’

  Mann watched Baxter pedal off on his mountain bike. He looked like a sixth-former. ‘I better get off too’ he said. ‘They really do get younger, don’t they?’

  Eleanor laughed. ‘I know what you mean. But at least one of the Walker kids didn’t pinch his bike while he was here. I wouldn’t put it past them.’

  ‘So you’ll both be all right?’

  ‘We’ll be fine. And thanks for your help. I know you’re having a difficult time at the moment.’

  Ian Mann had never thought of himself as a sensitive person, and he was glad he wasn’t, but as he walked home he suddenly started to feel cold, tired and rather down. The breeze had picked up, and the clouds were building in from the west, so he put it down to that. When he got home he had that long shower, then made a big bowl of pasta. His back was aching when he went to bed that night, but half a dozen old folks’ gardens were ready for inspection by anyone. Well, by anyone other than an expert gardener.

  Gill McGrath arrived at the station after she finished work, and Ray Dixon collected her from the front desk.

  ‘When are you getting your own swipe card?’

  ‘Tomorrow, I think, after my induction.’

  ‘Thank God for that. I’m not used to all this exercise, forever collecting you and Alison and taking you back down again after. How long can you spare tonight?’

  ‘Until I get hungry.’

  ‘Right, I’ll get you a Twix from the machine on the way up. That should buy me a couple of hours.’

  They walked up the stairs and along the corridor to a small office that had been turned into a makeshift CCTV review room. Dixon opened the door, but walked in before Gill, who had misunderstood his intentions and nearly bumped into him.

  ‘I’m not Andy Hall’ he said, and Gill laughed. ‘He’s too polite, Andy is. It worries me. But if he ever blows his stack it would be worth watching though.’

  ‘So where have we got to on Sanchez’s journey north?’

  ‘The next one to look at is Forton services, so that’ll be your job for tonight. We’ve got them going in to the services, and two cameras on the filling station forecourt. The techies have set up a two hour window for you for the way up, plus the same for the way back south again. The owners said there was only quarter of a tank in the car when it was nicked, so unless one of Cafferty’s boys filled it up our man must have stopped somewhere.’

  ‘This might be a two Twix job, Ray.’

  He laughed. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of healthy eating?’

  ‘Didn’t someone tell me that you have a pie every day for your lunch? Every single day, Ray.’ They both knew who that someone was.

  ‘Be fair, it’s just a part of my lunch. I always have a packet of crisps as well. I do like a balanced diet.’

  Gill decided to watch the forecourt footage first, just to get her eye in. She had the mug shots of Sanchez from when he was twenty, plus a computer-aged version of what he might look like now. She was dubious that she’d spot him, and hoped that she’d see the car first. She looked again at the pictures of the exact model X5 that he’d been driving. They looked like publicity shots, and a couple was shown taking a picnic basket out of the back and laughing.

  She watched the footage at four times speed, which the techies had told her was sensible, and she saw the car as soon as it started to pull on to the forecourt. She didn’t need to check the photos to confirm that it was the right colour and make. Gill reached for the speed control, and slowed the footage to normal speed. A man got out of the car, walked to the back, realised that the filler cap was on the other side, took out the fuel hose, and started to put fuel in the car. She couldn’t see who it was, even as he walked out of shot towards the shop to pay.

  Gill noted the time on her pad, exited the forecourt footage, and found the file of footage from the shop. She started playing, at standard speed, a couple of minutes before the X5 had arrived. The quality of the video was good, really good, and Gill found she could lip-read a few of the words that customers were saying. And when he walked in to the shot there was no doubt in her mind. It was Sanchez. She watched him pay, in cash, and glance up at the camera. Did she imagine it, or had he actually smiled and nodded?

  Gill watched the footage again, because it was her discovery. For another minute or two she would the only person in the station who knew. She froze the image on a nice clear shot of Sanchez, then set off to find Ray. But his shift had finished ten minutes before, and he was already on his way home. But Jane Francis was still at her desk.

  ‘Jane, Jane, we’ve got him.’

  ‘You’ve found Sanchez? Where?”

  ‘At Forton, paying for petrol. I’m certain it’s him. Shall we tell Andy?’

  ‘No, best if I check first. But I’m sure you’re right.’

  ‘He’s a brilliant detective though, isn’t he, Jane?’

  ‘DI Hall follows procedure.’ She regretted it as soon as she’d said it. What on earth had made her say that? ‘But yeah, of course, he’s a pretty smart cookie.’

  While Gill was making her discovery Andy Hall was in a meeting with one of the accountants from HQ, doing his best to defend his budget for the coming year, so he missed all the excitement. But when he turned his Blackberry back on the emails piled in. They had Sanchez connected to the X5, so following confirmation from the facial recognition software the CPS would arrange for an international arrest warrant to be issued. It was a clean, fast result, and it was just what Robinson needed.

  ‘That’s one in the eye for Val Gorham’ he said, when he closed Hall’s office door after the accountants had been sent on their way, ‘so what’s your next move?’

  ‘Just as we said when we met with Val. Concentrate on the conspiracy behind Sanchez’s arrival, and finding the source of the information about Williams. Look, sir, I was wondering, would there be any chance of me and perhaps Jane popping down to DI Sheridan’s nick for a day or two? See if we can help out a bit.’

  ‘If their Super is happy then of course, certainly. But what’s your thinking, Andy? Are they short-staffed?’

  ‘Not so as you’d notice, sir, but between us they’re so used to getting nowhere with Billy Cafferty that they’re maybe just a bit defeatist. I think they almost expect a bad outcome, not to get anywhere in making the connection back to Cafferty.’

  ‘You’re not suggesting anything else though, some kind of collusion?’

  ‘I’ve got no reason to think that, so no, I’m certainly not. As I say, it’s just an offer. I think they’ve been pleasantly surprised by what us country bumpkins can do, so far at least.’

  ‘No-one would call you a bumpkin, Andy. All right, if their Super OKs it go down for a couple of days. No more mind. And you’ll leave Ray Dixon in charge of looking at it from this end?’

  ‘I will, and I meant to tell you, he’s already solved the mystery of the fingerprints on the glass at Williams’ place. They belong to his cleaner’s daughter. Likes to help herself to a tipple while her mum’s doing the cleaning apparently.’

  ‘And doesn’t even bother washing her glass afterwards. Some peopl
e, eh Andy? Some people.’

  Hall could think of worst behaviour, but he nodded agreement anyway. He wondered briefly when Robinson had last actually spoken to a real offender.

  Thursday, 2nd May

  Andy Hall treated himself to a lie-in until seven. He’d got used to sleeping alone, and the bad dreams were less frequent now. He lay listening to the radiator ticking in to warmth, and reminded himself to turn the central heating off. The kids would open all the windows before they’d turn the thermostat down.

  He showered, put on his best suit, and packed an overnight bag. They were a trendy lot down in Merseyside, by Hall’s standards at least, so he packed the newest clothes he had. But that wasn’t saying much. As he packed he realised that he hadn’t bought anything since long before Carol had left, and wondered if Gill might be willing to help him choose some new clothes. Or would she think it was an imposition? He couldn’t decide.

  He chatted with the kids over breakfast, and asked Alice, the older one, to do their online food shop that evening if she had a chance. There’d be lots of ice cream in the freezer and biscuits in the cupboard in a day or two’s time, but Hall could live with that. Thanks to a few new recipes he felt he was doing his bit in terms of home cooking, and the girls deserved the odd treat. He was still keeping a close eye on them both, always looking for signs of unhappiness. So far he’d spotted nothing, which he was far from certain was a good thing.

  Ray Dixon made a point of looking at his watch as Hall walked in to the office.

  ‘All right, Ray, point taken. Just give me ten minutes. And tell you what: I’ll make the tea this morning. It can be my penance for being late.’

  Jane was at her desk, and Hall spotted the overnight bag next to it. She looked different somehow, in a good way too, but Hall knew better than to pass comment. He couldn’t even quite put his finger on what it was, anyway.

  ‘So where are you up to, Ray?’ asked Hall, when they were settled at his meeting table. ‘As you know I’m down in Liverpool for the next day or so, which means that you’ll need to keep on top of the Williams case at this end.’

  ‘You saw my email about the glass?’

  ‘I did. Nice work, Ray. How did you find out though? I assume the kid wasn’t on our system.’

  ‘No, she wasn’t. I saw that one of the uniforms had talked to the cleaner, and it struck me that she might have had a little tipple from her employer’s Scotch. Well, it has been known. So I called her and she said that vodka is her tipple, but that her eighteen year old daughter sometimes goes along to help clean, or at least to sample the full range of spirits on offer. And from there it was easy.’

  ‘How about our file on Williams? Anything of interest on that?’

  ‘I’ve eliminated all the prints except one, a partial that they found on the front cover, and another inside.’

  ‘Which page?’

  ‘The one with his cover details on. Name, address, everything that matters.’

  ‘And this print’s not on the database? So it’s not anyone in the station then?’

  ‘No one who’s had their prints taken, no. But that’s not the same thing as no-one in the station. Our civilian staff aren’t fingerprinted, I checked.’

  ‘OK, let’s park that for now then. And have you done a search of all the emails sent and received in the station?’

  ‘Yes, and nothing’s turned up. Everyone who knew was very careful, and followed the procedures to the letter. Trevor Royal’s name turned up once or twice, but in perfectly sensible contexts. I can give you print-outs of the emails if you like, but I don’t think you’ll be concerned by any of them at all.’

  ‘That’s something, anyway. Maybe Williams was just spotted in Kendal, maybe tailed back to Burneside Road, and then the word went out for Sanchez afterwards.’

  ‘Mebbe, boss, because there are certainly no signs that he gave it away himself.’

  ‘How sure of that are you?’

  ‘Can’t be certain, but talking to a couple of neighbours he was pretty much a recluse, especially recently, and Jane says that nothing came up in his email or phone records that suggested he’d been anything other than super-careful.’

  ‘Makes sense’ said Hall, after a moment. ‘If I was the key witness in a trial involving one of the Caffertys I’d keep my head down too.’

  ‘Aye, boss, but if we agree that Williams wasn’t the source then it’s still possible that the information came from here.’

  ‘Or anywhere else in the criminal justice system, plus the other arms of the state that would have been involved. Did anyone in any other agency locally know who he was? Social services, that sort of thing?’

  ‘Don’t know, boss, you want me to check? I didn’t know how official this was, how many waves I could make.’

  ‘Yes, it’s all right, I’ve cleared it with the Super. But don’t get your hopes up. That print’s probably nothing, like your cleaner’s daughter. Someone completely innocent might just have handled the file.’

  ‘Maybe, boss, but it’s supposed to be under lock and key at all times, and the Super’s pet dragon assures me that the safe is always locked.’

  ‘She would say that though, wouldn’t she? But short of printing everyone in the station, including all the civilians, I don’t see how we can progress that line, do you?’

  Dixon shook his head. ‘I did have one other idea, boss, but I doubt you’d like it.’

  ‘Out with it, Ray. But if it involves that new WPC you can forget it.’

  ‘She’s a cracker though, isn’t she, boss? I know I can’t say anything these days, but what I’m thinking would break every rule in the book.’

  Hall smiled. ‘They can’t touch you for it, Ray, but fortunately for young Asmita you can’t touch her either.’

  ‘So they tell me. But here it is, boss. Let’s say that Williams was spotted, some time between when he moved up here last year and the time he was killed. But what if friend Cafferty couldn’t find out where he was living? He just knew it was round here somewhere.’

  ‘That’s a lot of assumptions, but with you so far.’

  ‘Well put yourself in Cafferty’s position, boss. You need to find out where he is, so you can call in Sanchez or some other attack dog to do the business for you. So maybe what you do is get someone into here somehow, because you know that we must have a file on him somewhere.’

  ‘So you’re saying we should look for a new joiner over the last few months?’ Hall thought about what Dixon had said. ‘It’s a nice idea, Ray, but it’s no more likely than a thousand other scenarios really, is it? And I assume you’re talking about those Specials, the new intake?’

  ‘Aye, boss, I was. What with the cuts I can’t think of anyone else new we’ve had.’

  ‘So are you saying you want to pull their files?’

  ‘Yes, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Why should I mind? Bloody hell, Ray, Gill isn’t some kind of Mata Hari you know. So yes, it’s fine. I’ll email personnel before I go, and ask for the files on any other new starters as well. It would be worth looking at the cleaners especially. If I wanted to infiltrate a place like this they’d be my first port of call. They’re here at all hours, and if the Super did leave anything lying around, well...’

  ‘Will do, boss.’

  But Dixon didn’t look as if he had any desire to get up and get on with it. Normally this wouldn’t have surprised Hall, but today it did. Because Dixon made no secret of the fact that he thought that Ian Mann had saved his life when it all went so wrong that night up at the Abbey, and it was obvious that he regarded exonerating Mann as some kind of payback. And that was just fine with Hall. So he waited for Dixon to go on. There had to be something on his mind.

  ‘It’s a bit awkward, boss, but I wanted to ask you something. You know I haven’t got long to go ‘til retirement.’

  Hall couldn’t help but laugh. Most people in the station would know, within a month or two at most, when Ray was due to go. He’d talked of
little else for ten years at least.

  ‘Yes, Ray, I did know that.’

  ‘I wondered what the chances were of me staying on?’

  It wasn’t often that Ian Hall was genuinely surprised. It was why he rarely laughed at colleagues’ jokes. It wasn’t that they weren’t funny, or that he’d heard them before, it was just that he’d usually worked out the punchline before it was delivered. But this one he hadn’t seen coming at all.

  ‘Are you pulling my chain here, Ray?’

  ‘No, boss. I’m serious, honest. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I know the pension is index linked, but lately inflation seems to be really galloping again. It reminds me of when I started in the job. And I’m starting to think I’d miss it a bit as well. You know, things like this.’

  ‘So you want me to see if you can carry on as a DC?’

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘Well I’ll ask of course, but don’t get your hopes up, Ray. With all these cuts, and the fact that we’ve got loads of bright PCs wanting to get a taste of CID, well, it doesn’t look great for anyone wanting to stay on. I think they’re pretty much saying that you have to go when you’ve done your thirty.’

  ‘Unless you’re a Superintendent.’

  ‘Yes, but they breathe different air, don’t they, Ray? Put it this way, in my experience the people who decide who gets to stay tend to be the people who end up staying. I bet it’s the same in every walk of life.’

  ‘But you’ll try, boss?’

  ‘Of course I will, Ray. You’re the most instinctively talented detective I’ve ever served with, and that’s a fact.’

  ‘And the most handsome.’

  ‘That goes without saying. Now get out, before I suggest a Civil Partnership.’