The Blue Notes

by J. J. Salkeld

  ‘You’re not going to stake the place out, are you?’

  ‘No, certainly not. If I can actually get a few quid out of Pepper I’ll contact the tech team and ask them to put a wireless intruder alarm on the garage door for me. It’ll send me a text if the door is opened at night. What time was he there before, when we’ve got him on CCTV?’

  ‘The corrected time was just after midnight.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll ask them to set it so that it’s active between 10pm and 4am.’

  ‘Will you nick this bloke, if you catch him?’

  ‘I’ll have a chat with him first. And I’ll certainly be telling him to stop making donations, if they are donations, like this. But if the fuel’s actually coming from a bent source then aye, I’ll nick him for that. Of course I will.’

  ‘But he’s actually a bit of a superhero, isn’t he? Going around giving stuff to good causes like that. And you wouldn’t arrest one of them, would you?’

  ‘If they were wearing spandex in the hours of darkness then I would, aye. There’s just no call for that sort of showing off, is there?’

  Josie laughed. ‘So will you let me know when you’re going to the foodbank again?’

  ‘Aye, I’ll text you.’

  ‘Have you got my number?’

  ‘No, good point. You should be the bloody detective.’

  Henry was whistling as he bounded back up the stairs. Well, it wasn’t every day that the food bank recruited a new volunteer. He overtook Pepper on the second landing, because she was carrying a steaming Pot Noodle as carefully as if it were spent nuclear fuel, and as they walked up the stairs to the CID suite he told her about the development in the un-theft case.

  ‘The what?’ said Pepper, and Henry told her that Josie from CCTV analysis had coined the phrase.

  ‘She’s that pretty young volunteer, isn’t she?’

  ‘Can’t say I’ve noticed’, said Henry, and laughed a nanosecond before Pepper did.

  ‘I’d say she sounds a bit posh for you, love, except you’re the poshest man I’ve ever met. And I’ve met some right toffs, in my time. Usually only when I’m nicking them, like, but even so. But if your man has been back on multiple occasions, like your new girlfriend says, then he must be nicking this diesel from somewhere, don’t you think?’

  ‘Aye, I do.’

  ‘But still no reports of thefts?’

  ‘No, nowt. A break in at a removal firm a few days back, but nowt stolen.’

  ‘Interesting. All right, Henry, I’ll bite. I’ll sign off on a grand of spend with the techies, but that’s it. And don’t lose their gizmo, whatever you do. They’ll bloody charge us for it if you do, you know. And you do remember what happened with that tracker on your old man’s car?’

  ‘We got the tracker back, didn’t we?’

  ‘Aye, we did. But remind me about what happened to the bloody car it was stuck on to?’

  That evening Pepper parked her neighbour’s car on the quiet Victorian street on the south side of Carlisle, and thought about her story if anything happened while she was wandering around the allotments in the dark. She was on duty, and was due to meet Rex Copeland in town in less than an hour, but the pool car she’d been issued with was parked up at the far end of her street, and she would pick it up when this was done. She took the torch from her bag, got out of the car and quickly scanned the street and the close-curtained bay windows. The houses were very much like her own, but they all looked much more homely, somehow. She crossed the street and climbed quickly over the eight-foot high gates into the allotments. She walked to the shed nearest her, stood in its shadow, and looked back at the streets and the houses. There was no movement.

  Then came the tricky part. She’d strolled through the allotments in the daylight earlier and had eventually identified the shed that she was almost certain had been her grandfather’s. But she hadn’t seen it in years, and they all looked much the same: like they’d been built without a single right angle, from creosoted driftwood and old pallets. So she still wasn’t completely sure, but she used the landmarks she’d identified and, after a couple of wrong turns, eventually reached the shed that she was after.

  The padlock looked like the strongest part of the structure, which wasn’t saying much, but she still took the time to find the right skeleton key to open it. Inside it was much as she expected, with a couple of well-worn spades and forks hanging on the wall, and bags of chemicals on the wooden floor. And it was the floor that Pepper concentrated on, and it didn’t take her long to identify the boards that had been disturbed recently. There were new looking nails, and she was sure that she could see where a flat blade had been inserted between the boards to prise one up. She’d decided not to come equipped herself, just in case she was stopped, so she looked on the battered old bench for something suitable to use. All she could see were a pair of slim-bladed secateurs, so she inserted the blade between two of the boards and started to apply pressure. All she could do was hope that the board would come up, and not just snap in half. She gradually increased the pressure, and when the board finally moved it did so suddenly, and she sat down hard.

  ‘Shit’, she said, but the board hadn’t split. It had come out intact. She shone the torch into the void beneath, saw the plastic bag of twenties, and carefully lifted it out with her gloved hand. With her other hand she reached into her pocket, took out an evidence bag, and put the money in. It would be the five grand that her dad had told her about, just before he died. Had to be. She put the bag into her coat pocket, and slipped the board back into place. She used the handle of a spade as an unwieldy but effective hammer to knock the nails back in. Then she stood up, and used her foot to brush dust and dirt back over the area. It wouldn’t pass an inspection by Sandy Smith’s newest recruit, but she didn’t expect that it would ever have to.

  When she was outside Pepper shone the torch back into the shed, checked that she’d put the secateurs and the spade back in the right places, then carefully closed the door and clicked the padlock shut. She felt surprisingly calm, but the adrenaline started flowing as she approached the gate. Again she stood in the shadow of one of the sheds, and watched a dog walker slowly stroll along the street. When she’d gone Pepper checked the houses again, then walked quickly to the fence and climbed over it. She dropped into the road, and as she turned to walk back to the car she saw a figure walking in her direction. He must have turned the corner in the five seconds that it had taken her to get over the fence. The car was only ten yards away, and she was almost certain that she could drive away without the pedestrian getting her number, even if he wanted to, and she almost made a dash for it. But she didn’t, and instead, walked towards the shadowy figure. As she approached she could see that it was a middle-aged man.

  ‘Excuse me’ she said, ‘do you live round here?’

  ‘Aye, number 47.’

  ‘I’m from the street behind. I’m searching for my cat. Black, almost never answers to the name George.’

  ‘No, I’ve not seen it. Have you put up posters, like?’

  ‘That’s my next move, if he doesn’t turn up. I know he goes into the allotments, but I can’t see him anywhere. Thanks, anyway.’

  ‘Aye, no problem.’

  Pepper walked away, and round the corner. She gave it five minutes, until she started to get cold, and then strolled back to her car. The man was nowhere to be seen. She drove straight round to Linda’s house, and sent her usual text. Tommy often took Linda’s phone, and insisted on reading all her texts and emails, so Pepper signed it Brenda, as usual, and mentioned her imaginary daughter, Jane. That would do the trick. Five minutes later Linda climbed into the car.

  ‘Sorry, Pepper, I need to be quick. He wants a bottle from the offy.’

  ‘No problem, love. Here’s the cash.’ Pepper reached into her pocket, pulled out the evidence bag, opened it, and slid the packet into her friend’s hand. ‘I think it’s five grand. They’ll be used notes too, I’m sure. And you understand where this
has come from?’

  ‘Your old man?’

  ‘Aye, but it’s worse than that. It’s cash that Dai Young paid him to drive that stupid car, when he got killed. So it’s dirty money, Linda. But who gives a shit, eh? You need it, and you can use it. And it won’t really be dirty, not if it helps you start a new life. You do see that?’

  ‘Aye, but it’s yours, Pepper. Your dad wanted you to have it. You said so yourself. I just can’t take it, love.’

  ‘Yes, you bloody can. What my dad wanted means bugger all to me. Just forget it. And you do know that when Pete from my nick picks you and the kids up tomorrow you’re to say nowt about it? Say that you’ve just had a few quid from me, and I expect he’ll bung you a bit more. Just make sure you take it, OK?’

  ‘But I don’t know him, love.’

  ‘But he knows Tommy. We all do. Everyone knows what a useless shit he is. Why do you think people from work are so keen to help you? I expect a few of the other lads have put a few quid in as well, so don’t be surprised if it’s a fair few quid. And you’ll need every penny.’

  ‘All right, thanks. I’d better go. But I’ll keep in touch.’

  ‘No, don’t do that. Pete will take your SIM card off you, and he’ll tell you how to get a new bank account, and all that. You listen to him carefully, OK? And don’t contact any of your mates, not even me. Because Tommy will go mental when you leave, and he wouldn’t think twice about hurting your friends to find out where you are. You’ve been his bloody meal ticket, all these years, and he’s going to try anything to get you back. So you promise me. For you, love, but mainly for the kids.’

  ‘All right, I promise.’

  Pepper reached over and hugged her friend.

  ‘Five years, love,’ said Pepper, as her friend opened the door. ‘Don’t even think about coming back for five years. Even if Tommy goes inside again, which he surely will. It’ll be scary on your own in a place you don’t know, I realise that, but you’ll get there. And it look at it this way, love. A world that doesn’t have Tommy Taylor in it, now isn’t that a place worth living in?’

  ‘Every day would be a fucking holiday. Honest, love, it would.’

  Afterwards Pepper drove home, changed, and put the jeans that she’d been wearing in the washing machine and turned it on. She was due to meet Copeland in less than twenty minutes now, and he was never late, so she made herself some toast, chatted to the sitter for a minute or so, and then looked in on Ben. The guitar was on the bed, right next to him, and she went in and moved it onto his little desk. She’d have to get some sort of stand for it, she decided, as she tucked him in.

  Rex Copeland was early as usual, so he bought himself a drink and found a table, right by the door. It was the kind of city centre pub where a copper of any colour would be spotted in seconds, so other than the odd half-heard comment he was left alone. On balance, and given the fact that the majority of the drinkers looked as if they’d seen the inside of Carlisle nick on multiple occasions, that was the way he preferred it. He made an effort not to keep looking at the door, and instead played a game on his phone, so he was slightly surprised when he felt Pepper’s hand on his arm.

  ‘Sorry I’m late. Ben, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, of course. No worries. Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘No, don’t worry, thanks. You just finish yours. I’ll see if I can spot Mandy, and if not then let’s move on, OK?’

  Pepper took off her dark blue woollen coat and put it on the stool next to her.

  ‘Blimey,’ said Copeland, pointing at it. ‘Have you and Ben been rolling about in the mud?’

  Pepper picked her coat up, and brushed the back with her hand. ‘I must have leaned on something.’

  Two minutes later they were on their way. The next pub on the list was a five minute walk away.

  ‘Come on, Rex, keep up.’

  ‘Your legs are longer than mine.’

  ‘That wouldn’t be hard, love.’

  He laughed. ‘Harsh, but fair. So where’s this Mandy, then? Maybe she’s not out drinking tonight.’

  Pepper laughed. ‘Is it a day of the week? Trust me, she’ll be out and about somewhere. She’ll have pre-loaded on whatever’s cheapest at the corner shop, and now she’ll be bumming drinks wherever she can.’

  ‘Sounds like a top night out.’

  ‘What a tart you are, Rex.’

  ‘I bet you say that to all the boys. So what do you expect this woman to tell us? It sounds like she’ll be pissed as a fart by the time we find her. If we find her, that is.’

  ‘She used to live with one of the blokes who moved those bloody guns. Dan Thomas he’s called. A nasty little bastard, but as thick as they come. Word is that she hates him now, like they always do, so maybe she’ll have something to tell us. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? And what else would you be doing, on a fine spring evening like this?’

  ‘Good point. I must keep reminding myself that work doesn’t actually count as a hobby.’

  By closing time they’d been round twenty city centre pubs, and the last, the Black Swan, was small and dingy. Copeland didn’t even register the name on the way in. He was just looking forward to getting home now, even if it would be empty.

  ‘There she is,’ said Pepper quietly, as soon as they walked in. Copeland spotted a woman, on the far side of the room, who glanced round at them and then got up, unsteadily. The pub was busy, and as Pepper moved forward she seemed to trip and fall. But Copeland saw the leg withdraw, and he shouted and moved towards the man, seated at the first table, who’d tripped Pepper up. But before he reached him he felt a hand land hard on his shoulder, so he jabbed back hard with his elbow, and felt a septum crack. But as he started to turn back towards the door he was hit, hard, from behind, and only just managed to keep his feet. He ducked and turned in one movement, almost felt the haymaker pass over his head, and he moved forward, fighting. He couldn’t see Pepper, but she was back on her feet, and had a big, fat bloke in an armlock, and face down on a table.

  She was reaching for her cuffs, when she was knocked off the man, and found herself sprawling on the floor, waiting for the first kick to the stomach. But it didn’t come, and as she got up she saw that Rex was struggling with two men, one with blood pouring from his nose, while two other blokes were scrapping right next to her. And it wasn’t a long bout, either. Because the man who she guessed had knocked her down took two in the face, fast, and then doubled up after a hard right to the body.

  Two minutes later she and Rex had made four arrests, the van was on its way, and Copeland was feeling the side of his face.

  ‘At least you won’t get a black eye, Rex,’ she said, and he laughed.

  ‘Like I haven’t heard that one before. Where’s this Mandy then?’

  ‘Oh, bugger. She’s gone, hasn’t she?’

  ‘’fraid so, yeah.’

  ‘Shit.’ Pepper turned, and saw the man who’d stepped in to help them slipping on his coat. ‘You, sir. Would you mind hanging on a minute?’

  ‘Me? Why?’

  ‘We’re police officers. But I expect you already knew that.’

  ‘No, lass, I didn’t. All I saw was a man attacking a woman in a pub, and that’s never on, is it?’

  ‘What about my mate? Two blokes were having a go at him.’

  ‘He looked like he could take care of himself.’

  ‘What, and I didn’t?’

  Pepper smiled, and the man smiled back.

  ‘OK, sure. I’ll hold on. But I hope I’m not going to be arrested.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, mate. If you ask the landlord really nicely I’m sure he’ll even let me buy us all a drink.’

  When the van had gone, and there was no-one left to make a statement, Rex and Pepper sat down with the man who’d got stuck in alongside them.

  ‘Davey Hood’, he said, ‘thanks for the drink.’

  ‘You earned it. I’m DS Pepper Wilson, and this is DC Rex Copeland. Thanks again for helping out. That was in dang
er of really going sideways on us.’

  ‘Not a problem. Like I said, I didn’t know you were coppers.’

  ‘Would you have stepped in if you had?’

  Hood smiled. ‘Aye, I expect so.’

  ‘So if you didn’t know we were cops, why do you think we got jumped like that?’ asked Rex.

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it.’

  ‘What if we’d been two blokes? Would you have got involved then?’

  Hood shrugged. ‘Well, you’re not, are you?’

  Pepper grinned at that. At least he’d noticed. ’Where did you learn to handle yourself like that? The boxing club in town?’

  ‘Aye, I went there as a kid. But it was the army, mostly.’

  ‘How long were you in?’

  ‘Twelve.’

  ‘You don’t look old enough.’

  ‘It’s that healthy desert air, I expect. Not a whiff of twenty first century industry, except for the high explosives, like.’

  Pepper laughed again.

  ‘Aye, I expect the sand’s a hell of an exfoliant. So what do you do for a living now, Davey?’

  ‘Removals. General haulage.’

  ‘Based in Carlisle?’

  ‘Oh, aye. When I got out I was always coming home. Plus, knowing where everything is at round town saves me having a sat-nav.’

  ‘And you’ve got lads working with you, have you?’

  ‘Aye, two. Freelance, like. Both ex-squaddies. Well, you know where you are with a soldier, like.’

  ‘I can see that, Davey.’

  He took a cautious sip of his pint. ‘So do I need to make a statement, anything like that? I didn’t see much, just you going arse over tit, Pepper, and those other lads getting stuck in to you, mate.’

  ‘Aye, we’ll need a statement,’ said Pepper. ‘Either pop into the station, or we can have someone come round to your house or place of work.’