‘Suspended. And he’ll be sacked today if I have my way. He didn’t hear everything anyway, Hall, so most of what you say you heard is uncorroborated. It will count for nothing, absolutely nothing, if you repeat any of it at an Inquest. All it will do is embarrass and damage you, Mann and DI Francis.’
But even the ACC noticed the change in Hall’s expression that followed. It was as if a group of facial muscles, long unused, had spasmed simultaneously.
‘Damage? Really? You’re willing to stoop to blackmail, are you? And all to protect a murderer. Well it won’t work, and I’ll tell you why. Pete Spedding, or DC John Niven as he really is, will expose your lies at the Inquest, and then where will you be?’
‘No, he won’t. Do you really think that we’d be sitting here, having this conversation, if I hadn’t already handled Mr. Spedding? He most certainly won’t be called to any Inquest, nor will he be formally interviewed in connection with this matter. And last, but very definitely not least, he will deny, in terms, all of your preposterous claims, if they’re ever put to him by someone from the fringe media, for example. You’ll just be seen as another mad conspiracy theorist, howling at the moon.’
‘But I can prove he was a police officer. I know where he was trained, and when…’
‘All serving and former officers from the Kent force will deny any knowledge of a John Niven, if asked, you can be quite sure of that. You will have nothing, Hall, absolutely no proof whatsoever.’
Hall knew when he’d been outflanked, and when he was outmatched. His expression reverted to neutral, and his voice to quiet.
‘So what now?’
‘Nothing. The matter is closed. Go home, Mr. Hall, and concentrate on parenting. That really is your only viable course of action. Because I can tell you that the Constabulary will be opposing your application for a PI’s licence, which was just embarrassing anyway, to tell the truth. And allow me to give you just a little advice. You have a vivid imagination, that’s obvious enough, so how about a new career writing children’s stories? But whatever you do next you really do need to face facts. Your policing days are behind you, and all you’re doing now is sullying what’s left of your reputation. You’re already a laughing stock, so why make it any worse?’
Half an hour later they were dropped back at Mann’s car by a taciturn DS from Carlisle.
‘Shall we knock on the door, and offer our condolences?’ said Hall, when the DS had nodded in farewell and left turned away.
‘No, mate. One of the lads up on the cliff said that Mrs. Green and her kids aren’t up to it, and that they’ve been saying a few choice things about us too.’
‘Us?’
‘All right, about you. They’re not fans, like. But that’s understandable, isn’t it?’
‘You mean you think it’s my fault as well, what happened last night? And you’re right, of course. If we’d never spoken to Green then he’d still be alive today.’
‘You know I don’t mean that, mate. It’s absolute bollocks, is that. Green was up to his neck in the killing of a copper, Andy, and that’s just not on, is it? So someone would have come knocking, eventually, if there’s any justice left in this world. Listen, if the bloke had just come clean when he had the chance, and grassed up Battersby, then he’d have done three or four years for conspiracy, and a cop-killer would have gone down for ten. Not a great result, but better than nowt, like. Sorry, but Green took the coward’s way out here, mate. Robbed himself of thirty or forty years of life, didn’t he? And remember, no one forced him to get involved in this. There’s always another way of dealing with blackmailers, Andy, no matter what the victims tell us. He could have just told Battersby to fuck off, but he didn’t, did he?’
It wasn’t like Ian Mann to say so much in the course of a shift, let alone all in one go. But Hall still didn’t reply. He was thinking about Eric Green, and that last step, out of this world and then onwards, into the black.
It was Alice Spedding who answered the door, and she didn’t look remotely happy to see Hall and Mann. They’d driven straight from St. Bees, and Hall looked tired and drawn. Mann looked much the same as always. Ready for a fight, ready for anything. Alice stared suspiciously at Hall.
‘Oh, it’s you. Well, we’ve not got long. We’re going away, just for a few days.’
‘We don’t need long. Is John about?’
‘You mean Pete. There is no John. There never was, and there never will be.’
Hall was about to reply, but Alice had already turned and was walking back towards the kitchen. ‘Pete’, she shouted up the stairs, ‘Andy Hall and that other bloke are here, love.’
Alice didn’t offer them a drink, and she turned back to her washing up, leaving Hall and Mann standing in mid-kitchen. They heard Spedding’s heavy tread on the stairs, and he almost ran into the room behind them.
‘We’ve not got long, lads.’
‘We know’, said Hall, ‘Alice just told us. I’ve been briefed by ACC Winter about what you’ll say, if asked. You’ll deny your friend, your colleague, and I must say…’
‘Aye’, interrupted Alice sharply, ‘so what of it?’
‘I wondered why you’d decided to be complicit in a cover-up, Alice? To help prevent the man who is responsible for your first husband’s death from being brought to justice.’
‘Aye, we do owe you an explanation’ Spedding began, although his wife prevented him from completing the sentence.
‘No, we owe them nowt, Pete. There’s no proof of any of it, Andy, that’s what that Winter bloke said. All we’d be doing is putting ourselves out there, at risk, for no good reason. And we’d have to tell the kids everything too, wouldn’t we? And Winter says we’ve got nowt to worry about, not any more. Not with Green dead. So can you promise us the same, if we did what you’re suggesting?’
Hall shook his head. ‘No, I can’t, but neither can he, not really. And what I really can’t understand is this, Pete. All those years ago you gave in to them, didn’t you? You let them cover it all up. You bought their lies in the end, tacitly at least. Don’t you want to put that mistake right? Because this is the last chance you’ll ever get, believe me.’
‘Pete did right back then, Andy’, said Alice. ‘I understand that now. He did right then, and he’s doing right now. We can’t bring Cam back, can we? And I’m not sure I want to, anyway.’
Hall caught something unexpected in Alice’s tone. ‘Why do you say that? He was a hero, surely?’
‘Was he? Are you totally bloody right sure about that?’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘No, I’m not. We’re not certain what he was, are we Pete?’
‘That’s right, Andy. Like ACC Winter said earlier, if Cam had tumbled to what was going on, then why didn’t he talk to me about it, eh? Could it be that he was in on it with them, and they killed him because he got too greedy? I bet you haven’t considered that possibility, have you?’
‘I have, and it’s certainly possible. But no more likely than at least one other explanation.’
‘Oh aye, and what’s that, then?’
‘Well, maybe Cam thought that you were involved with Battersby and Green, and that’s why he didn’t tell you. Maybe he knew that you were, even.’
‘You what? Of course I bloody wasn’t.’
‘I believe you, as it happens, but I’m just trying to explain that a variety of explanations are possible. Just because Winter says something, that doesn’t make it true. I thought we’d established that. And, be honest, Pete, you don’t really believe that Cam was dirty, do you?’
‘No, but…’
‘Well, then. Look, it’s up to you, obviously, but all I wanted to say was that I’d stand alongside you, if you did decide to go public with all this.’
Alice took a step towards Hall, and waved a soapy scourer in his direction.
‘No, you won’t, Andy. And who’d believe you, anyway? You’re just an ex-cop who’s a bloody house-husband now. Changing nappies and going t
o toddler groups, for Christ’s sake. No-one would take you seriously, not for a second. Look, we’re grateful that you’ve helped get Battersby out of our lives, but the ACC says we’re safe now, and we believe him. Because now that this Green bloke is dead there’s nothing for him to worry about, is there? He’ll say nowt, and we’ll say nowt, so….’
And then Hall realised. He was stupid not to have spotted it before.
‘You’ve been bought off, haven’t you?’
‘I was entitled to a resettlement payment, Andy,’ said Pete, ‘from way back when, plus all that pension money and back pay. Winter’s just made sure I get it this time, that’s all. And you know what it’s like, mate, having a kid at our age. I’m just thinking about my family, that’s all.’
Andy Hall did understand. The urge to provide, to protect, was so strong, and his instinct to do the same certainly hadn’t ever left him. Not for a single second.
‘All right, I understand. And I want you both to know that we won’t take this any further without you. It’s case closed, for good and all. Ian, is there anything you want to add, before we get out of theses good folks’ way?’
‘Not really, Andy. I’d just have hoped that my comrades would have done a bit more for me, like, if I had checked out the way that DC Spence did. But times change, I suppose.’
Wednesday, 1st October
Police HQ, Penrith
Ian Mann was wearing his best suit. It fitted where it touched, which was better than most of his clothes, and his regimental tie felt tight as a noose. When he reached the HR suite the receptionist took his name, told him to sit, and so he sat. Half an hour later, he was still sitting. He didn’t have anything to read, but Mann didn’t mind. He was used to just waiting, relaxed but ready. He’d done plenty of it in his time.
And when the ACC’s PA came in to the office he wasn’t surprised to see her.
‘The ACC would like to see you, DS Mann.’
‘And I didn’t bring any flowers.’
The ACC was a pretty girl, young enough to be Mann’s niece, but not quite his daughter, and she stifled a smile. Mann didn’t bother to stifle anything. When they’d discussed it Hall had guessed that there was an 80% probability that this was how it would play out, and it seemed that he’d been 100% right.
Mann marched in to the face the presence, stood to attention, and waited.
‘Sit, sit. At ease. Just bloody sit down, Mann.’ Someone got out of his Jag on the wrong side this morning, he thought.
‘You’ll be aware of the developments with regard to the complaint against you?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Don’t give me that. You know perfectly well what’s happened. Mrs. Macrae took exception to something that her husband did, and hit him on the head with a bottle. When she was being charged she intimated that the statement she gave, alleging that you had assaulted her husband, was false, and was only given because she was under severe duress. She feared for her safety at the time, in fact.’
‘I see, sir. And what does her husband say?’
‘Nothing. He claims that he has amnesia, and can now remember nothing about either incident.’
‘Not quite as stupid as he seem then, our Paul.’
The ACC glanced across at Mann, who was staring at a spot six inches above the ACC’s head, just exactly where his halo might have been.
‘As a result of these developments you will be reinstated to duty, with no adverse entry in your personnel file. Mr. Macrae will be charged with assaulting a police officer, and his wife with attempting to pervert.’
‘No, sir. Not that, sir.’
Winter couldn’t have looked more surprised if Mann had reached out and carved his initials on the mahogany desk top with a bloodied dagger.
‘I beg your pardon, DS Mann.’
‘We shouldn’t charge Maggie with owt. What she says is 100% true. Paul Macrae is a right twat, a nasty little bastard, and he’s certainly not above giving that lass a hiding. He’s done it before, more than once.’
‘I don’t doubt that. But the woman had ample opportunity to retract her original statement. You can watch the interview tapes, if you like. I’m sorry, DS Mann, but it’s out of my hands. Maggie Macrae will be charged, and I have no doubt that she will receive a substantial custodial sentence. And quite right too, of course.’
‘But what about her kids, sir?’
‘Oh, that? Arrangements will be made, I’m quite sure. And it’s really none of our concern, is it?’
‘Just like the death of DC Mike Spence is none of our concern, sir?’
Winter got up from his chair, and walked slowly to the window. He had the second best view in the place, and was quite sure that it was the very least he deserved.
‘Are you negotiating with me here, DS Mann? Is that was this is, a negotiation?’ Mann didn’t answer. ‘I’ll take that as a yes, then. So what are you offering? The charges against Mrs. Macrae are dropped, in which case you and Andy Hall do what, exactly?’
‘Nothing, sir.’
‘You would take no further interest in the Donald case whatsoever?’
‘That’s right, sir. So long as the Speddings are left alone, and Battersby doesn’t offend again, then our interest in the matter is over. We won’t actively pursue it.’
Winter sat down again, and thought about it for some time. Long enough, in fact, for Mann to peruse almost half of the certificates hanging on the wall, in everything from scuba diving to criminology. It seemed that the ACC really was a most accomplished man.
‘But how can you guarantee Hall’s agreement to this? He is, or was, your superior officer. Plus the fact that I know, from personal experience, that he is a very stubborn man. A very stubborn man indeed, in fact.’
‘You leave Andy to me, sir.’
‘Very well, that is agreed. But Paul Macrae still faces the assaulting a police officer charge, Mann, and you will be expected to appear in court. He’ll go away for five, at least, given his record.’
‘I wouldn’t have it any other way, sir, and nor would Andy. And if Maggie blots her copybook while that tosser is inside I’ll go round there and nick her myself, I promise.’
‘Just make sure she doesn’t have an empty bottle in her hand at the time, Sergeant.’
Mann made a point of never smiling in a senior officer’s presence, because it just gave them ideas, but for once he made an exception.
‘I’ll bear that advice in mind, sir. I certainly will. Thank you, sir.’
Tuesday, 7th October
The Hall residence, 10.30am
Andy Hall was drinking his third mug of tea of the morning, dunking his biscuit and thinking vaguely about his waistline, when he heard the letters fall through the letterbox and on to the mat. It sounded like the usual crap, he thought, getting up to have a look. There were indeed a couple of thick envelopes for Jane, offering her credit cards no doubt, and he wondered why he didn’t get those any more. Maybe he was judged too old, too poor, or both.
There was one letter addressed to him, and he knew exactly who it was from. There were just two paragraphs on one page, telling him that his application for a PI’s licence had been unsuccessful. No reasons were given. He wanted to feel angry, or at the very least disappointed, but he didn’t. Was it because Winter had told him that this would be the outcome of the application, or was it because he’d never really wanted to do it anyway? Both, most likely. There was coppering, and there was retirement - with added childcare - and there really wasn’t anything in between. He had been foolish to even explore it as an option.
Hall didn’t bother to look through the spy hole when he heard the knock at the door. It would just be postie asking him to take in yet another parcel for next door. It was like being a bloody sorting office, he thought, as he slid the the chain free. But it wasn’t the postie. It was Vinny Battersby, and that long, low car was parked outside Hall’s house once again.
‘Could I come in for a minute?’
&nb
sp; ‘Yes, of course. I’m on my own. Jane and Grace have gone…’ Hall tailed off. ‘But of course you knew that already. They’ve gone for a walk. Jane is on late turn today.’
Battersby took off his shoes, seeing Hall’s trainers by the door, and Hall smiled. It was rather a thoughtful gesture: for a cold-blooded killer and arch-manipulator.
‘Can I offer you a tea? Coffee?’
‘Do you have green tea?’
‘We do. Jane likes it sometimes. Sit yourself down.’
Hall went to the kitchen, and left the music playing quietly. When he returned Battersby was taking his phone from his jacket pocket.
‘Phones off?’ he said, and it took a moment for Hall to realise what he meant.
‘Yes, fine. I wouldn’t know how to record on mine, anyway.’
Hall passed Battersby his tea, and turned the music down. He thought about going to get his recorder, but he wasn’t certain where it was. His glove box? The study, perhaps?
‘I didn’t expect that we’d ever meet again, Mr. Battersby. There was no need to come, you know. Because I do know when I’m beaten. I really do know that.’
‘How about when you’re wrong?’
‘That too, I hope.’
Hall took a sip of his tea, and waited.
‘You are wrong, you know.’
‘What about?’
‘Cam Donald’s death. It was an accident, honestly. I didn’t ask anyone to kill him, or even to hurt him.’
‘Even though you knew that he was on to what you were doing with the Greens? Because you’re not going to deny that you were involved in escalating the protest, keeping it going, just to generate more income for his security firm?’
A Half Remembered Life (The Lakeland Murders Book 9) Page 16