‘Sounds pretty bad.’
‘It certainly does, but not quite as bad as he makes out. The medics think he’s easily treated and should last a good few years yet.’
‘What’s the point of moving him? Most prisons have a gym. That should give him all the exercise he needs.’
Cronshaw sounded quite unsympathetic. Hood continued.
‘He also suffers from claustrophobia and doesn’t like using the gym. He wants somewhere more spacious, where he can walk in the fresh air.’
‘The new prison near Mansfield sounds perfect,’ said Morrison.
Cronshaw smiled.
‘I didn’t think people like Hanlon were sent to prison so they can enjoy the outdoor life. What did he say to you anyway?’ He leant back on his desk. ‘I only have a very brief note.’
‘There’s another reason why he might assist. He says he has a son who’s seriously ill with kidney failure. Hanlon wants to donate one of his own kidneys but his diabetes will probably mean it’s not acceptable. The risk to his own health would be too great.’
‘Pity that,’ said Morrison. ‘But couldn’t he sign something to say he was prepared to take the risk?’
‘I doubt if the Home Office would play ball. They’d be guided by the medics and they are dead against it. Not much point transplanting a defective kidney, and Hanlon’s already showing signs of kidney problems. He’ll have to be carefully monitored. And, of course, it would mean a transfer to a hospital for the procedure to be carried out. The governor told me that would be far too risky, with Hanlon’s connections on the outside.’
‘I assume he has a son?’ said Cronshaw, cynically. ‘This could all be a ruse you know. He certainly isn’t married. That was established at his sentencing hearing and there was no mention of him having a son.’
‘He showed me a letter purporting to be from his son’s mother – a woman called Bridget but there was no address. She’s apparently scared of him and doesn’t want him to know her whereabouts.’
‘Well that sounds as if it might be true,’ said Morrison.
‘He hasn’t seen him for five years, or so he says and the letter suggested the boy was asking after him.’
‘He’ll have a long wait,’ said Morrison.
‘He’s hoping to get a chunk off his sentence if he co-operates. I’ve given all the details to the Attorney’s office – as per my instructions.’
‘It would have to be something good. Something that would sink Hamilton completely,’ said Cronshaw. ‘Even then, I can’t see him getting out anytime soon. The public wouldn’t stand for it. They were very serious offences he committed – and he was the ringleader - alongside Grayling of course.’
‘As I’ve already told Fiona, he hinted he could sink Hamilton without trace, but he didn’t say how. Not directly anyway?’
‘He’ll want a cast-iron arrangement in advance, I presume?’ said Cronshaw. ‘Like Duffy. Mind you, if the Attorney’s as keen as he sounds, I suppose something could be arranged. Moving him to Mansfield for starters.’
He did not seem at all happy.
‘But you’re against using him?’ queried Morrison. She sounded surprised.
Cronshaw nodded.
‘One professional criminal giving evidence is bad enough. Two of them will inevitably lead to problems and give Edwin Everdene a way in. They’ll end up contradicting each other on something of significance – they always do. But I suppose we must find out what he’s prepared to say – if he’s prepared to say anything. We also need to get on with it. The trial is almost upon us. I couldn’t bear another adjournment.’
Morrison was more optimistic.
‘Tell Mr Cronshaw what he said about Hamilton’s appearance, Harry.’
Cronshaw looked intrigued. He returned to his leather desk chair and sat down.
‘Her appearance? What on earth did he say about that?’
‘It was more what he implied it could reveal,’ replied Hood. ‘He didn’t say anything really, apart from asking what Hamilton was wearing when she saw Grayling in Hastings.’
‘That doesn’t seem relevant,’ said Cronshaw. ‘Is he conceding he was at Grayling’s house when the meeting took place?’
Hood shook his head. ‘No, he didn’t go that far. He was basing it on Duffy’s statement, which he’s seen, of course. He suggested we should find out how she was dressed. He said it would tell us something important once we established that.’
Cronshaw started searching through his papers until he found Duffy’s statement. He read through the relevant section speedily.
‘As I thought, there’s no mention of how she was dressed. But why should there be? I don’t suppose he was ever asked?’
‘Well, Hanlon clearly thought it significant.’
‘And Duffy didn’t mention it?’ asked Morrison.
‘Not a word.’
Silence ensued.
‘And you still haven’t established how she got to Hastings?
‘No. We know she was in Derby on the morning of the fifteenth and in London on the evening of the sixteenth. That’s as far as we’ve got.’
‘But Hanlon certainly implied that it’s something Duffy would know about?’
‘Yes, I suppose he did. And, as I recall, he first mentioned it in the context of Duffy’s daughter.’
Cronshaw sat back in his chair and pondered the question. Then he spoke.
‘Let’s look at it logically. It’s something that Duffy would know – he was there of course – but for some reason he has kept to himself. And the context is the arrival of Hamilton at Grayling’s house in Hastings and he mentioned Duffy’s daughter?’
The other two nodded in agreement.
‘So the question is, who would Duffy be protecting? He was having an affair with Carol Jarvis, but she can’t be the one. So that leaves his daughter.’
‘Kelly Maguire?’ said Hood. ‘She was hardly in the driving seat. She just did as she was told, didn’t she?’
‘Exactly!’ said Cronshaw. ‘You’ve hit the nail on the head, chief inspector, although I suspect you don’t know it. Driving seat is right.’ He smiled. ‘What do we know about her?’ He answered his own question immediately. ‘She rides a motorcycle. She was the would-be robber who was riding a motorcycle during the abortive robbery near Retford.’
He beamed and looked directly at Hood.
‘That’s it, you see. That’s how Julia Hamilton got to Grayling’s house. On the back of Kelly Maguire’s motorcycle. I’d put money on it!’
Hood looked at Morrison. Of course, that had to be it. Why had it never occurred to him before?
‘Now, that is a thought, I’ll check it out, so far as we can. She was moved from Holloway to Foston Hall a few weeks back. I’ll get Wendy Knight to have a word with her.’
‘That might explain how she got to London to meet up with Bill Savage before eight o’clock that evening,’ added Morrison. ‘Kills two birds with one stone.’
‘And Hamilton is still in Holloway, isn’t she?’ said Cronshaw.
‘Yes,’ replied Hood. ‘Which means that both she and Maguire were in the same prison on remand, at least for a few weeks. They could well have had contact with each other?’
‘Perhaps they knew each other before all this occurred?’ said Morrison. ‘That’s never been investigated has it?’
Hood stood up and walked towards the window, then turned and faced Cronshaw. ‘“I know someone who does.” Those were the words Hamilton used in that phone call to Grayling. I thought she must have been referring to Doyle. Of course - it could well have been Kelly Maguire!’
‘Very helpful if it were,’ added Cronshaw. ‘We want to keep Doyle out of this if we can, don’t we Mr Hood?’
He looked directly at the chief inspector. So he knows, thought Hood. Presumably the Attorney has told him a
bout Doyle’s disclosures? It was obvious from Morrison’s reaction she had not been included. Hood hoped the circle of those in the know had not grown too large.
‘If Hanlon is telling the truth,’ added Cronshaw, ‘and that’s a very big “if”, she was probably dressed appropriately. Quite a way from Leicester to Hastings, even on a fast motorcycle. I suspect that’s what Hanlon is implying. She was probably dressed in motorcycle leathers – I believe that’s what they call them. And it’s virtually impossible to identify someone dressed like that. They all look the same.’
Hood had a sudden thought.
‘Hang on, Doyle used to ride a motorcycle. He picked up a couple of convictions for speeding on one years ago. She must have a set of leathers somewhere if she’s ridden with him. We found nothing in her mother’s flat where she was living when she was arrested, but we’ve recently obtained a warrant to search her mother’s house in Thrussington. It should have been completed by now.’
‘You may be on to something there, Harry,’ said Morrison. ‘It would also explain Duffy’s daughter casing the judge’s house in February, if she and Hamilton were known to each other. Hamilton’s initial move could have been through Kelly Maguire, before she thought of going to Grayling. Perhaps she thought of using Kelly Maguire’s criminal connections? Her boyfriend, Adam Leckie has some serious convictions. And he was quite prepared to join the kidnap plan. Perhaps Grayling simply took over an existing operation?’
Hood nodded.
‘Yes. If Hamilton already knew Maguire, that may be how she got on to Duffy and through him on to Grayling?’ He took out his mobile phone. ‘Would you excuse me. I have an urgent call to make.’
He left the room. Within three minutes he was back, his face broadening into a smile.
‘Listen to this,’ he enthused. ‘I’ve just been informed what was found in one of the wardrobes at Sycamore Cottage. A full set of motor cycle leathers. Exactly the size that would fit Julia Hamilton. And I can’t see her mother dashing around on a motor bike.’
‘So, that’s what Hanlon meant,’ said Morrison. ‘He was giving us something to prove he really is in the know. If it is her kit, her DNA is bound to be recoverable. Any sign of a helmet?’
‘That too. It’s on its way to the lab along with the leathers.’
Cronshaw did not share in the general excitement.
‘It doesn’t alter my view,’ he said, firmly. ‘We will be risking the whole case by relying on two such disreputable witnesses. Edwin Everdene will have a field day with them if they as much as hint at an inconsistency. And remember, Hanlon knows it was Duffy who dropped him in it. He could well use this trial as a way of getting back at him.’
‘Wouldn’t the same risks arise with Duffy alone?’ asked Morrison. She was obviously keen to use Hanlon as a witness.
‘Too some extent, yes. But with the two of them? Everdene will be able to play one off against the other. There’s nothing like two villains undermining each other in front of a jury – to make them acquit!’
‘Well,’ said Morrison. ‘We’d better make sure their stories match.’
‘I still don’t like it,’ said Cronshaw. ‘Hanlon may be telling the truth about Hamilton, but when it comes to the rest of it, he’ll also mix it with lies. It’s in his nature and that’s the danger. If even one of his lies is exposed in cross- examination, that’ll be it. My advice is we leave him well alone. We can use what’s he’s said about Hamilton. We can prove that without him.’
‘Assuming Kelly Maguire co-operates?’ said Morrison.
‘Rather Maguire than Hanlon. The jury would be more sympathetic towards her. And even if she doesn’t cooperate, we’ll still have the leathers.’
‘Are you saying we shouldn’t even take a statement from him?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. If we take a statement from him, it’s almost bound to be discloseable. We’ll have to show it to the defence even if we choose not to use him. We’ll have to disclose Mr Hood’s note of his conversation with Hanlon as it is.’
‘What? Even if he refuses to make a formal statement?’
‘Of course,’ replied Cronshaw. ‘It won’t harm us for Hamilton to know what Hanlon has said, even if we don’t use him. Edwin Everdene will not go fishing in that pond if we don’t use him, I assure you. And it will put the wind up his client.’
Hood was unsure which was the better course. To use Hanlon or to discard him? He could see problems either way. Then Fiona Morrison put the matter beyond argument.
‘I suppose it will be up to the Attorney-General? He’s in charge of the case, now.’
‘That’s what concerns me,’ replied Cronshaw, pointedly. ‘It’s up to him at the end of the day. As you say, he’s in charge now, not me.’
Chapter Eight
The Attorney-General was adamant. He directed that a statement should be obtained from Joseph Hanlon and Hood was ordered to take it by his superintendent. The Attorney signed a document prepared by his private secretary guaranteeing that in the event of Hanlon giving evidence satisfactorily, there would be a reduction of at least one third in the period that he would have to serve before being eligible to apply for parole. No guarantee was given that he would get it. It would depend on his behaviour in custody. A move to a different prison was also agreed, to take effect after his evidence had concluded. He would not be returned to Whitemoor. He was not, however, informed which prison it would be. He would only discover that when he got there.
Harold Cronshaw dissented. He insisted on it being recorded in writing that he did not share the Attorney’s view. He advised against relying on Hanlon but, as he anticipated, he was overruled.
‘I don’t understand the problem, Hal,’ the Attorney pronounced, placing his arm around him in an over-friendly manner. ‘This strengthens our case immeasurably! Surely you must see that?’
Cronshaw was not convinced.
‘I don’t like it,’ he said. ‘I don’t like it one bit. We should not be getting into bed with someone like Hanlon. Whatever he may say, he’s in this for himself, not out of a sense of seeing justice done.’
‘What could possibly go wrong?’ asked the Attorney.
But Cronshaw was unmoved. The Attorney sought to resolve matters by undertaking to deal with Hanlon himself.
‘Given your concerns, which I’m bound to say I don’t understand, it might be expedient if I examined Hanlon in chief at trial, while you concentrate on Duffy?’
‘As you please,’ replied Cronshaw. ‘After all this is your show now.’
‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that. I prefer to think of us in working in a harmonious partnership, especially as I won’t be able to be there all the time. There will, I’m afraid, be other demands on my time.’
He smiled, but Cronshaw did not respond.
Hood spent almost an entire day carefully recording Hanlon’s statement. He had to concede that if he came up to proof, his account of matters would provide cogent evidence against Julia Hamilton. And there was nothing in Hanlon’s account that contradicted anything Duffy had said, although he was able to add details that Duffy had omitted. Both Morrison and the Attorney were delighted when they read through the statement. Cronshaw, however, kept his reservations to himself.
Similar progress was not made with Kelly Maguire. When Wendy Knight interviewed her at Foston Hall, she refused to say anything about Hamilton. When it was put to her in terms that she had transported Hamilton to Grayling’s home, she simply laughed. ‘I did no such thing,’ she insisted, even when her father’s additional statement, authorised by the Attorney, was put to her.
Having been told what Hanlon was prepared to say, Duffy was more than willing to supplement his original statement by confirming both the presence of Hanlon at Grayling’s home and Hamilton’s appearance in motor cycle leathers. But he claimed he had not seen his daughter. He could not
confirm who had dropped off Hamilton or picked her up after the short meeting had concluded. ‘I never went beyond the front door,’ he said. ‘I heard a motorcycle, but I never saw whose it was.’
‘He’s just protecting his daughter,’ scoffed Morrison.
‘Of course he is,’ agreed the Attorney.
The Attorney’s confidence increased when he saw the evidence in respect of the DNA tests on Hamilton’s motor cycle leathers. Hamilton would not be able to deny that she owned the clothing and helmet uplifted from her mother’s cottage. The DNA results were clear and unambiguous. It was, stated the scientist, a one in a billion chance that someone other than Julia Hamilton had worn the items in question. There was no DNA from any source other than her found on the helmet and the clothing.
‘Game set and match,’ enthused Fiona Morrison but Cronshaw remained troubled.
‘This all too convenient,’ he said to Markham-Moore over a hasty lunch. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something not quite right. I have an awful feeling this is going to blow up in our faces.’
Chapter Nine
Edwin Everdene QC and Felicity Garrard waited patiently with their instructing solicitor in one of the rooms assigned for legal visits at Holloway prison. Garrard had been there before many times but it was Everdene’s first visit. He was not impressed. What was the point of keeping women, whatever they may have done, in such dreary and oppressive conditions? No-one could possibly gain from it. He looked at the bare walls of the interview room and shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Felicity Garrard removed the case papers from her bag. Giles Pepper sat motionless, his file balanced on his knees, staring at the notice which recited the prison regulations in complex detail. It was firmly screwed to the wall behind its plastic cover.
‘I hate these places,’ said Everdene. ‘I don’t know how you criminal practitioners put up with it all. And on legal aid most of the time. You put the rest of us to shame.’ He grinned. ‘The last conference I had with a client was in the Cayman Islands. Quite different from here, I can tell you.’
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