The Blue Notes

by J. J. Salkeld

  Armstrong told her, and Pepper said ‘fuck’ occasionally, indicating everything from mild surprise to amusement, and on to genuine concern. But she was smiling by the time that Henry was finished.

  ‘He’s quite a boy, that Davey, isn’t he?’, she said.

  ‘You could say that. But did I do right, Pepper?’

  She waved the question away as if he’d asked entirely the wrong one to ask. ‘Aye, you did right. Not legally, like, so you need to write all this up in your notebook, including coming here, tonight. I’ll do the same. But you met him outside the foodbank, yeah, and the rest is only guess work. He never admitted to belting those two wankers of Dai’s, did he?’

  ‘No, he didn’t.’

  ‘Fine, then we’re golden. You had no reason to detain him, and you came round here because you suspect a link to Dai Young’s operation, OK?’

  ‘Got you, thanks.’

  ‘But Hood’s really in the shit, isn’t he? He said they recognised him?’

  ‘Aye, he did.’

  ‘Bollocks. Dai’s going to go absolutely mental when he finds out about this.’

  ‘What should we do?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Officially, nothing, probably. But that’s why you’re round here at this time of night, isn’t it? I tell you what, Henry. You leave it with me. I’ll think on, and we’ll discuss it after the weekend, OK?’

  ‘But what if something happens to Hood between now and then? Aren’t you worried about that, Pepper?’

  ‘Davey Hood’s a big boy, Henry. And I’ve got a feeling that he’s more than capable of looking after himself, if it comes to that, like.’

  Monday, April 13th.

  CID office, Carlisle Police HQ, 9.12am

  The WPC who’d actually brought Rob Birkett in was waiting in the interview room when Rex Copeland walked in. They’d chatted a couple of times on work nights out over the past month or two, and Rex welcomed the opportunity to show off a bit in front of her. Not that Birkett would exactly stretch him, and WPC Bentley would know that already. Because not only did his record show that he was an utterly incompetent thief when sober, and an epically bad one pissed, but his appearance that day told the self same story. It wasn’t whether or not he’d slept in his clothes, merely how long he’d been sleeping in them for.

  ‘Do you know what you’re here for, Rob?’ asked Copeland, slowly. Experience had taught him to always start with the easy ones, when suspects looked and smelt like this.

  ‘You what?’ said Birkett.

  ‘Do you know why you’re here?’

  ‘Oh, aye, you’ll be fitting me up with a few of your burglaries, like. Go on then, tell me which ones I did, like.’

  ‘We don’t do that, Rob. We need to ask you about a burglary that took place a week ago, on that new estate near where you live.’

  ‘Oh, aye?’

  ‘Yeah. The show home got broken into. Do you know anything about that?’

  ‘No. And you can’t prove a fucking thing. You see, if I did go out on the rob, not that I did, but if I did, I’d wear gloves, see.’ Burkett looked at WPC Bentley as proudly as if he’d just discovered a whole new continent, just slightly to the left of Australia.

  ‘That’s very sensible of you, Rob. I’m impressed, honestly. The thing is, the whole glove thing only works if you remember to keep them on.’

  ‘I did. I mean I would, if I did rob the place. Which I didn’t. You won’t catch me out that easy, copper. I know your game.’

  ‘I can see that. But let me guess about last Sunday evening. Had you taken a drink, by any chance?’

  Birkett paused, as if it was something that he needed to consider. ‘Might have, aye. Why?’

  ‘Well, you might not remember this, but when you broke into that house, I mean when someone broke into that house, there were a couple of things that they might have found odd about it.’

  ‘Oh, aye, like what?’

  ‘Like the fact that that lovely laptop in the lounge was a bit lighter than it should have been, for instance.’

  Burkett paused. ‘And why would that be, then?’

  ‘Because the computer was a dummy, mate. Just like whoever it was who broke in then, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Aye, it’d be a schoolboy error would that. I’d never do owt like that. Not that I did do it, of course. It wasn’t me, like.’

  ‘I remember, you did say that you didn’t do it. But our burglar, whoever it was, made another mistake. He tried to open a fake bottle of booze.’

  ‘Oh, aye?’ Birkett’s expression morphed slowly and blearily from sly to slightly concerned. ‘And what happened then, like?’

  ‘Then he chucked it on the floor. I expect he was frustrated when he couldn’t get it open. And of course it didn’t even shatter, because it was made of plastic.’

  Birkett looked relieved. ‘That proves nowt, then.’

  ‘I’m afraid it does, Rob. You see whoever our burglar was, he took his gloves off to open the bottle, see, and he left a couple of prints. And you know who those prints belong to, don’t you?’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Exactly. So save the poor bloody taxpayer a few quid, Rob, and let’s get this done, shall we?’

  ‘All right, aye. Where do I sign, like?’

  ‘Good lad. But can I ask you one thing, before we get you charged. What happened to that dummy laptop?’

  ‘I sold it to a mate. Got a tenner for it, like.’

  ‘He didn’t think it was real, did he?’

  ‘Christ, no. He just wanted something to put where his old one was. Just to remind him, like.’

  ‘He’s got substance problems too, has he?’

  ‘Aye.’

  Copeland nodded. Suddenly he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Afterwards he made a coffee for WPC Kerry Bentley, and sat on the edge of her hot-desk in the open Division office.

  ‘You know he would have coughed to that in ten seconds if you’d just told him about the print?’

  ‘Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?’

  She shook her head slightly, which Copeland didn’t take as a good sign.

  ‘There’s not much fun in taking the piss out of blokes like that though, is there? Not really. We both know that five years from now he’ll be dead, and his kids won’t even have left school. Maybe it’ll be me who finds him. It’d be just my luck, would that.’

  Copeland got off the desk, and was still thinking about the tone of his reply when he heard his name being called out. He turned, almost relieved, and saw two plain clothes cops, who he didn’t recognise, bearing down on him.

  ‘Yeah, I’m Copeland.’

  ‘I’m DS Jarvis and this is DI Dixon, Professional Standards. We need a word. Now.’

  ‘Call Pepper Wilson’ Copeland said to Kerry Bentley, and she nodded assent.

  ‘What’s all this about?’ he asked, but he didn’t expect a reply. Not in an open office.

  It took ten minutes for the Federation Rep to turn up, and since Copeland had said that he didn’t need a solicitor they went back to interview room 5, although this time Copeland was on the other side of the table. But he wasn’t too worried. He’d done nothing wrong, he knew that, and cons were forever making complaints about cops, just to piss everyone about. It was probably just one of those. So he told himself to keep smiling, and that these two blokes were just doing their jobs, no matter what he might feel about cops who turn on cops. It was nothing personal. Not yet, anyway.

  It was Jarvis, the DS, who did all the talking.

  ‘Does the name Ferris mean anything to you?’

  ‘As in the Ferris brothers? Of course. North London criminal gang, going since just after the war. They’re like the John Lewis of crime.’

  Jarvis didn’t smile, but Copeland hadn’t really expected him to. ‘Exactly. And you know them, this family?’

  ‘Not personally, no.’

  ‘But you’ve had contact with their organisation?’

&n
bsp; ‘You know I have.’

  ‘How would you summarise that contact, DC Copeland?’

  ‘I was on the Met’s task force for nearly two years. They were the main target. Look, you know all this. It’s all on file.’

  ‘We do know that, of course we do. We were just looking for a narrative version, that’s all.’

  ‘OK. I was on the team responsible for surveillance of the targets, and for helping to manage our asset within the Ferris organisation.’

  ‘And that asset lost his job with the Met after an internal investigation into corruption?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And was that the right decision, would you say?’

  Copeland shrugged, and Jarvis repeated the question.

  ‘I don’t know’ said Copeland. ‘It was all above my pay grade.’

  ‘But what was your impression?’

  ‘I didn’t form an impression.’

  Jarvis frowned, and glanced at his colleague. ‘Why so defensive, DC Copeland?’

  ‘I’m not being defensive.’

  ‘All right, so how about the way you were treated? During the internal investigation, I mean. How did you feel about that?’

  ‘I wasn’t disciplined.’

  ‘No, but you were warned as to your future conduct, weren’t you?’

  ‘As I said at the time I had no idea who that flat belonged to, and I paid what I thought was a fair market rent. I had no knowledge that the property was owned, indirectly, by the Ferris family. I did nothing wrong.’

  Jarvis stayed silent then, and just looked levelly at Copeland. Rex knew why that was, but he still spoke first, even though he should have just waited Jarvis out.

  ‘Look, what’s all this about? That was over a year ago. I came up here to have a fresh start, to get away from the bloody Ferris family. Everyone here knows what happened. I didn’t try to hide anything.’

  ‘You couldn’t though, could you? And, anyhow, things have changed recently, I’m afraid.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘The Ferris brothers have been expanding geographically, haven’t they?’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘They’ve extended their operations right up here to Cumbria. Very recently. About the time you arrived, in fact.’

  ‘No, you’re wrong. There’s no evidence to connect the Ferris brothers to organised crime in this area. I’d know, if there was.’

  ‘No evidence that you’ve seen, you mean. Last time I looked you were a divisional DC, not a senior officer.’

  ‘All right, yeah. So you know different, do you?’

  ‘We do. But I can’t go into that today.’

  Jarvis paused again, and this time Copeland felt no inclination to break the silence.

  ‘You don’t seem surprised by that piece of information, DC Copeland.’

  ‘It would certainly explain how Dai Young seems to have been able to become the top man locally, without too much of a fight from the rest of the local villains. And we’ve had a couple of killings that certainly have a Ferris brothers quality to them, if that’s the right word.’

  ‘And what quality is that?’

  ‘The quality that tells everyone in the world that they’re not people to fuck with.’

  ‘And you’ve had no contact from anyone associated with them recently? Nothing at all?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  Jarvis opened the file in front of him, glanced down at something, and then looked back at Copeland. Eventually Jarvis spoke again.

  ‘You’re aware that there have been three failed intelligence-led operations in the last month, all targeting operations thought to be controlled by Dai Young?’

  ‘I’m aware of a number of unsuccessful operations, yes. So is this what all this is about, mate? You think I’ve been tipping off Dai Young’s boys?’

  ‘Have you?’ Jarvis was as calm as if he was asking Copeland to pass the ketchup in the cafeteria.

  ‘Of course I bloody haven’t.’

  Copeland’s voice was louder now, and the Rep put a hand on his arm. ‘Are we done here?’ he asked. ‘DC Copeland has been entirely co-operative.’

  ‘We’re done for now. But let me make one thing clear to you, DC Copeland. We’re looking very closely at you, and we’ll be examining all of your financial and electronic records. Every copper knows that coincidences can happen, in the same way that cons can go straight, but neither happens all that often, does it? So, why not do all of us a favour, and save everyone a lot of trouble. Just get it all off your chest, right here and now. It’ll be taken into consideration, I promise you that. Are they blackmailing you? Is that it, son? I can’t promise, but all this might not even involve any jail time, not even remand. But you’d have to tell me now. So, how does that sound?’

  ‘Fuck off’, said Copeland, getting up. ‘You people disgust me.’

  Pepper was waiting outside when Copeland came out. She looked furious, and it didn’t seem to worry her one bit that Jarvis and Dixon could hear every word she said.

  ‘I’m sorry about that, Rex. I didn’t know a bloody thing about it. But then I’m just the acting DI at this nick. What’s it all about? More total bollocks, I expect. What we need is bobbies on the street, not all this bloody carry on. Talk about a fucking waste of police time.’

  Minutes later Pepper was saying much the same thing to Superintendent Clark, whose expression said that he hands were tied just as effectively as a length of rope on her desk could ever have done.

  ‘I’m sorry, Pepper, all I got was a courtesy call about ten minutes before those two rocked up. I asked their boss, that DCI with the comb over, if I could tell you, and he said no. Honestly, this is the first I’ve heard that they were even opening a file on this. I just sent on your email, and I’ve heard nothing since. Not a bloody word.’

  ‘They must be looking at all of us then, ma’am. Jesus, it was you and me who started this ball rolling, wasn’t it? It’s me who’s flagged up Dai Young’s activities. I’ve been going on about the bastard for months.’

  ‘I’m no expert, but maybe that’s something guilty cops do, in this situation.’

  Pepper looked hard at Mary Clark, but her smile was as sweet as ever.

  ‘They’d have to be bloody mad, then. Those two dickheads may look stupid, but they’re not. And they can do what the hell they like when it comes to investigating us, pretty much. You can bloody forget innocent until proven guilty now, I can tell you.’

  ‘From what I gather, Pepper, they’re looking at people throughout the organisation. Not just Copeland, or you, or anyone else. And I’m not surprised that the Chief has gone down this route. We’ve had far too many cops up to no good of one sort or another this last year or two, and the Chief obviously won’t let this one go. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. The process has started now, and that’s just all there is to it.’

  Afterwards Pepper called DC Copeland into her office, and tried to calm him down. It was a new experience for both of them, because normally his was the little voice of calm, and even after fifteen minutes Pepper didn’t think she was getting anywhere.

  ‘You know what, Pepper? Institutional racism is still alive and well. That’s what I think. They’re bloody profiling me, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘No, Rex, it won’t be that. You’re just the first cab off the rank, mate. Trust me, we’ll all get our turn, soon enough, just you watch.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  ‘Like I say, you just watch. And you’re totally clean, aren’t you? I’d say whiter than white, but that might piss you right off, the mood you’re in at the moment.’

  When she’d made him a coffee, another first for them both, and told him what a great cop he was - in two or three different ways - Pepper mentioned, as casually as she could, that she’d decided to go back to the Black Swan to see if she could find Davey Hood, so that she could let him know about what Jefferies had said.

  ‘You’re not taking that load of old cobblers serio
usly, are you, Pepper?’

  ‘Maybe. I think we should let Hood know, at least.’

  Copeland was finally smiling now. ‘And doesn’t this bloke Hood have a mobile? You have to see him in person?’

  ‘I’ve tried his phone. It’s just going straight to voicemail.’

  ‘How many times have you tried?’

  Pepper grinned back. She was almost pleased that Copeland felt able to wind her up. ‘Haven’t you got work to be getting on with, DC Copeland?’

  ‘Yeah, I get you. Seriously, do you want me to come with you? Just say the word and I’m there, even if your coffee is terrible. Or would you prefer it if it all went tits up and this Hood bloke rode to your rescue again?’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Rex. There’ll be no rescues, or tits, or riding come to that. Now, why don’t you clear up a few of your outstanding cases, and get me in the good books with the Super. I’ve got my Inspector’s Board coming up soon, and every little helps, as they say.’

  After work Pepper made Ben his tea, and listened to him play his guitar. Justin had shown him three chords, which Ben solemnly demonstrated, and Justin had apparently also told him that the only other thing he needed to be a star was a tooth. Pepper frowned, and thought about it for a moment. ‘No, love, I think he meant the truth. All you need is three chords and the truth.’

  Then she negotiated with one of her regular sitters, threw in unlimited access to the biscuit tin to sweeten the deal, and drove round to the pub. It was only a fifteen minute walk, but she wasn’t going to be drinking, or staying long. Not at the rate young Tiffany ate biscuits, anyway. And she was absolutely sure that Hood would be there, because she’d made contact with him by phone at tea time, and they’d arranged to meet at eight.

  She walked into the pub, and as far as she could tell no-one noticed her, not even Davey Hood, who was deep in conversation with a bloke who had his back to her. But when he saw her Hood said something to his mate, and came over to meet her.