Body by the Docks: detectives investigate a baffling mystery

by Diane M Dickson

  “Yes, I’d prefer to have him to ourselves,” Griffiths said. He glanced at his watch. “In fact, I’ve already sent a couple of my mob round there. They’ll be with him right now. We may well need to commandeer one of your interview rooms. I assume I can rely on your help with him if necessary, Jordan? He’s familiar with you.”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  DCI Cross arrived just as Griffiths turned to leave. Jordan made the introductions. It was obvious he’d come down because someone had alerted him to the presence of the visitor. It became clear he knew at least some of what was going on, but he was surprisingly tight-lipped.

  When Griffiths left, DCI Cross spent a couple of minutes reviewing the whiteboard. By now the whole team were in and there was a background hum of excitement as word of the discovery spread.

  “Well, you’d better pull your finger out, Carr. Find that girl you’ve been rattling on about. I need a word.” The DCI jerked his head in the direction of the corridor.

  “I’ve decided I’m handing over as Gold on this one. A DCI from Serious and Organised is going to be in overall control. I’ve already got more on my plate than is reasonable.”

  Jordan didn’t respond, apart from a brief nod. They both knew this had been a foregone conclusion once the second team was brought in and possibly why he had been unusually quiet while Griffiths was still there.

  “I still need to be kept informed, mind you. You are still my officer. I don’t want you thinking you can by-pass me and take all this to your new friends in St Anne Street. I still have an important role to play here. No need to make a fuss about this either. The rest of the team will become distracted and confused. They’ll have no need to interact with DCI Morton who has taken over. We’ve already had a conversation and he was happy to assume overall control.”

  “Sir.” There was nothing else Jordan could say. They both knew how much it must have smarted to have this case whipped out from under him, and even though Cross could tell himself it was pressure of work, lack of experience in the particular discipline, it wasn’t going to be his name on the reports or, down the line, him standing outside the court giving the team effort statement to the press.

  Once Cross left, Jordan contacted the press office regarding the appeal for information about Molly. “I’d like the whole nine yards with this. Notice boards around the area where she was last seen out and about: Lord Street, Southport and in Picton Road. More of them should be placed in the city around Central Station and the bus stop. I’d like something on the television and of course the social media platforms.”

  Once that was under way, he found a quiet corner in the corridor outside and rang Vivienne Bailey on her mobile phone. “Just wondering what’s going on down there, Viv?”

  “I’ve not been here long. I had to get some beauty zeds. I was here until the early hours. Anyway, at the moment the place is like a fairground. We have a fleet of vans and trucks to take stuff away. We have a whole bloody squadron of technicians to check and move the sacks and of course that includes forklift trucks, and all the rest of it. I can’t get into the little office to do much about your dead woman. It’s a pantomime and no mistake. They’ve found more guns. They’ve already started an investigation into the port police so as you can imagine we’re about as welcome as a ham sandwich at a synagogue. Sorry, Jordie, not much help to you at the moment. On the upside, I reckon it’s got to all be connected so maybe the Serious and Organised section will solve your murder for you and all you’ll have to do is stand there and look pretty on the television reports.”

  “Thanks, Viv. Anything startling, give us a bell, yeah?”

  “Of course.”

  Terry appeared in the doorway of the incident room. “Boss, they need you in the interview suite. They’ve got Gary McCardle in there and he’s refusing to speak to anyone but you. A bit worked-up apparently.”

  “Right. I’m on the way.”

  David Griffiths met Jordan outside the interview room. “He’s very agitated. We have told him it’s to do with the investigation into his mother’s death. Which it is at this point. So, he started ranting about you being the one in charge of that. He’s right as far as it goes so, I reckoned it was best if you have a chat and I just sit in.”

  “Fair enough. Have you found anything to suggest he knew about what was at the warehouse? Up until yesterday we didn’t know where Mary McCardle was killed.”

  “We need to talk. There’s some stuff here that you don’t know. Is there somewhere quiet where we can get a cup of coffee?”

  Chapter 37

  The canteen was busy, and Griffiths insisted they needed somewhere they wouldn’t be interrupted or overheard. In the end, they bought a couple of cups of coffee and a bacon sandwich each, left the station and went to sit in Griffiths’s Range Rover.

  For a few minutes, there was just the distant swish of tyres on the main road at the front of the building and a few sparrows arguing in the shrubs.

  “It’s a health hazard, this job,” Griffiths muttered through a mouthful of bacon and bread. “I try to stay in shape and then times like this it’s all takeaway pizzas, fish and chips and these bloody things. I just can’t resist them. Anyway, moving on. Gary McCardle – well, the McCardle family really. I know you tried to trace their background. That was in the report you let me have.”

  “Yes, we did but we came up against a bit of a brick wall, to be honest. The records were incomplete and when we asked Gary it was hopeless. He waffled and blustered.”

  David Griffiths pulled a file from the backpack he had stuffed into the footwell. “Have a look at this.”

  Jordan wiped his fingers on the skimpy napkin and flipped the folder open. He read through it in silence.

  “Bloody hell. No wonder we couldn’t get very far.”

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t supposed to. It goes without saying that this is on a need-to-know basis. The family had been safe for a long time. Once they were relocated from Eire and settled and the cases were over” – he shrugged – “they were pretty much left to themselves to make the best of it. They were doing okay, weren’t they? The older children would probably remember some of their previous life, but the parents seem to have done a pretty good job at keeping them quiet. Molly, well, she was tiny. She wouldn’t remember anything about it. There’s a couple of pictures in there but nothing very current.”

  “So, what did he actually do? I mean, I see from this that he was in the protection programme but was he just a grass or actively involved with the terrorists.”

  “Yes, he was in on a lot of stuff that would have seen him locked up for a long time. There was blood on his hands and no mistake. But he got himself a deal and the people he pointed the finger at were more valuable than he was. Okay, they are old now, some of them were old even when he betrayed them. But they were still connected, and their memories are long and their punishment harsh and merciless.”

  “Gary will remember his early life in Ireland, but does he know just why they moved and what his father was?”

  “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

  “Yeah, but hang on. The old man has been dead for a while so, what does him being involved with the Irish terrorists have to do with what’s happening now?”

  “Intriguing, isn’t it? As I say, memories are long. If it had just been the killing of Mary McCardle, you would probably never have known about this. That’s the whole point of witness protection after all. So, the discovery in the warehouse has done you a favour. It’s saved you from having an unsolved murder on your ticket. On the other hand, it’s complicated things and, I’m afraid, pretty much taken the case out of your hands to a large extent. I have to say, though, I’m impressed by the way you’ve handled this. I’ll do everything I can to keep you involved and we’ll start with now. I’ll give you a couple of pointers about what we need from Gary from our side. You’ll just have to wing the rest of it and get whatever you can to help you with the search for Molly. We
have no reason to hold him as yet, so I’d prefer to keep this as ‘friendly’ as possible. He’s probably been waiting long enough now. Shall we get back and have a word?”

  Chapter 38

  Gary McCardle was chewing at his fingernails. A plastic cup in front of him was half full of coffee, scum forming on the top. Jordan dismissed the uniformed officer who had been by the door of the little room and he and David Griffiths took their seats at the other side of the Formica-topped table.

  “Are you okay, Gary? Have you got everything you need? Can we get you some water?” Jordan said.

  “What the hell is going on? Who is this bloke and why am I here?”

  “There’s been a bit of a development, Gary. Things have become complicated and DCI Griffiths is from another section who have had to be involved. We want to clear things up as quickly as possible so if you just answer a couple of questions now and I’ll be honest, there’ll be more later. But we’ll get you home again as soon as we can. I need to record our talk, okay?”

  “Am I under arrest? Because if I am, they didn’t do it properly. They didn’t read me my rights, didn’t tell me what I’m supposed to have done. Which is nothing, by the way. I’m a victim here. I’m a grieving bloody relative. They just asked me to come in, made it clear I didn’t have a choice and stuck me in a bloody car. The neighbours’ll be loving that. This is police brutality.”

  Jordan held up a hand, the palm towards Gary, who was shifting and shuffling on the chair. “No, you’re not under arrest. You can leave at any time.”

  “Right, well, I’m off then. I’m going to the papers about this.”

  “Oh no, I don’t think so. I don’t think you’ll be making any waves, Gary. You don’t do that, do you? You were raised to keep your head down, weren’t you? To keep your mouth shut and be unnoticed. It must have been tough. Having to watch what you said all the time, having to be alert and aware. Not a good way for young lads to live. It must have been a struggle for you and your Eddie. I bet you cursed your old man at times, didn’t you? Forcing you into that sort of life.”

  “Don’t. Don’t go bad-mouthing the old man. He did his best. He got us out. He found a better way for us.” Gary stopped speaking. He closed his eyes and hid his face behind his hands.

  “It’s okay,” Jordan told him. “I know about it all, you can talk about it in here.”

  Gary raised his head. “Nothing to talk about. You’ve obviously been told where I’m from and why I’m here, in Liverpool, so there’s nothing else to say.”

  “I don’t think I could have done it, not when I was a little kid. You were very young. How did they manage to make you understand, your mum and dad?”

  “They made it plain what was at stake. We weren’t daft. They drummed it into us, and they showed us pictures. Pictures of what could happen if we opened our mouths, if we blabbed about the past. You see pictures like those, you don’t forget – not even when you’re a little kid. I remember our Sandra couldn’t eat for days after.”

  “Is that why you didn’t report your mother missing, Gary?”

  McCardle sighed. His shoulders slumped as the last of the bravado leaked away. He nodded. “It was like a nightmare coming true when I heard what they’d found, up on the building site. It was as if we’d been waiting for it all along. As if it had just been a matter of time. Did she know? Mam, did she know what was happening?”

  Jordan glanced at David Griffiths who gave a small nod. “Your mother was strangled, Gary. She was dead before the fire.”

  “Thank God. It’s been torment. I kept thinking about her, about her being afraid.”

  “Well, I’m sorry but she was probably afraid, there’s no getting around it but we are sure she was dead before the fire. Gary, there are still so many unanswered questions around what happened to your mum. Now you’re able to talk about it, would you work with us and try to explain some of it? Your dad found the strength to do the right thing in the end, this is your chance.”

  “No, we’re not doing that. We’re not going to lie about it. Dada did what he did because he was scared. He was scared for himself but mostly for us. It was nothing to do with ‘the right thing’. He believed in the cause and never really changed his views. He just got us out of it because he didn’t want us all to end up dead. It was a big sacrifice for him. He felt like a traitor.”

  Jordan was aware of David Griffiths tensing beside him. “And you? Do you believe in the cause?”

  “I didn’t grow up there.”

  It was a strange non-committal answer. Jordan left it.

  “Okay. From what we know there was no sign of a struggle at your house. You told us Molly didn’t even raise the alarm with you when she found your mum gone. Have you any idea why that might be? I mean, she was an old lady we know, but after a life of being careful would she just go off on her own without telling anyone?”

  “She had a letter, in her bag.”

  “You didn’t tell us she had a letter,” Jordan said.

  Gary simply shrugged his shoulders. “As you say, after a lifetime of being careful, well you don’t blab about stuff.”

  “But you knew she’d been murdered. Surely you wanted to help us. We went through her things, there’s no mention of a letter.”

  “I threw it away. I didn’t know what else to do. I tore it up. I didn’t want Molls to see it. I was scared shitless, if you must know. I was sure we were next.”

  “Can you remember what the message said.”

  “Of course I bloody can.”

  They waited.

  “There was a picture of Molls and Jakey, just in the street. Outside the house. It said: ‘Here’s a fine Irish lassie. Shame if anything were to happen to them. Wait for the knock.’ So, I guess she did, and they came, and they took her.”

  Chapter 39

  They had to take a break. The declaration about his mother was too much for Gary McCardle. He tried for a while to fight off the tears but in the end the whole thing got the better of him. He sniffed and wiped at his face with the tissue Jordan handed over, but he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. They brought him tea and left him to himself for a while, giving him room to get himself together.

  “How are you feeling now, Gary?” Jordan and David Griffiths had waited for ten minutes in the corridor, but they were impatient to extract what information they could.

  “How the hell do you think I feel? I’m bloody shattered.”

  Jordan was strangely pleased to see the spark of rebellion back. They had no reason to think the lad had done anything wrong and he and his siblings had been robbed of so much already. Jordan pitied him.

  “Okay. But listen, we need to find Molly. We are regarding it as one of the main things. We need to talk about Eddie, but DCI Griffiths is probably the one you should do it with when he’s ready. I just want to find your sister and bring her home. Okay?”

  Gary nodded. “Listen, I honestly don’t know where she is. If I did, I’d tell you. Now this is all in the open. I reckon we’ll have to go away, won’t we?” He glanced at Griffiths.

  “It’s something we’ll have to talk about, yes. But there’s a lot to sort out first, I reckon.”

  “Well, whatever. If I knew where Molls and Jakey were, I’d tell you. All I know is she was niggled with us. She went out for a walk and she never bloody came back. If those bastards have hurt her, after Mam gave herself up like that. I’ll slaughter every last one of them.” He stopped. He knew it was a hopeless claim and he knew the two men sitting opposite to him were well aware of that.

  “There’s nowhere she would go? She didn’t have any friends she might stay with?” Jordan asked.

  “You still don’t understand, do you? Our life hasn’t been like other people’s. Mam and Dada wanted us at home where they could keep an eye on us. Dada might have saved us all, he might have found a better way, but it wasn’t good, it wasn’t ordinary. All my life, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been looking over my shoulder and wondering if somebo
dy trying to make friends with me was genuine or not.”

  “Okay. So, you can’t think of who it could have been she went off with from the hotel?”

  “No. It wasn’t Eddie, and it wasn’t Sandy’s partner. He’s a fat bloke, that’s the first thing anyone would say about him. What are you doing to try and find her? Seems to me you’re just sitting on your arse asking bloody stupid questions.”

  “We’re looking at CCTV. We’re going to put an appeal out on the television. We’ve got notice boards up in Liverpool and Southport and we’re putting it on social media. We are doing everything we can. If the people who have her are the people who took your mother, then they already know all there is to know. We’re not putting her in more danger. You do see that, don’t you?”

  “I guess.”

  “Okay, I’ll organise a car to get you home. Stay in touch and I promise as soon as we know anything, I’ll let you know. Do you want us to contact your older sister?”

  “No, I’ll do it. Before I go, though. You haven’t told me what this other stuff is – why this bloke” – he pointed at Griffiths – “is involved now.”

  “No, we can’t discuss any of that with you right now.”

  “It’s always the same, isn’t it? You want me to tell you everything but when it’s the other way round there’s nothing you can say. Don’t bother with a car. I’ll walk. I want some fresh air. Some that doesn’t smell of pork.” He stood, grabbed the jacket from the back of his chair and stormed from the room leaving the door to slam back against the wall.

  “Nice to have him on our side,” Griffiths said with a grin. “Okay, I’m off down to the port. Do you fancy a drink later?”

  “Yes, why not. I’ll bring Terry and Ros along. If you see Vivienne Bailey in your travels, I owe her a drink as well, maybe you could ask her.”

  Chapter 40