by Hylton Smith
“I’m sorry Sir, but I guess you know by now that there’s a region-wide hunt for Grimes and I’m at the reservoir with Gregory Watson, trying to get started with the new case. Would you be able to cover for me at the press conference? Also I remember you saying I might need help from Sunderland or Middlesbrough after Banks was discovered. I could use an experienced detective to fill in for er, well I…” he couldn’t bring himself to say Adams’ name. Cousins relaxed him.
“I was about to call you to say exactly that. Two of our own are down and in my book we take care of our own properly. I know how you and Ben worked together and the last thing you need is to temporarily replace his input with one of your own people. You need someone who hits the ground running and doesn’t complicate your feelings, because they don’t know Adams. Forget the press conference. I’ll get back to you.” Renton was quite taken aback. He had always considered Cousins to be a walking, target-oriented rule book. Maybe he did have some redeeming features.
Watson was pretty sure the cause of death was via insulin overdose, just like the London cases, and didn’t think the man had been dead too long. Renton’s attention at last began to focus on the body. He asked one of the officers standing by about the real identity. The notebook indicated a Mohammed Barek. He instinctively rang Stephanie.
“Did we get anything more from London about the two victims? Do they have information on ethnicity or names?” She was taken aback that he hadn’t even mentioned Ben Adams.
“I’m sorry Sir, but you told me not to have outside contacts for a period. D.S. Adams made sure I stuck to that, and ther…” She broke down.
“Listen Steph, I’ve also had trouble focussing on anything other than the two men who were gunned down last night, Ben and I go back some way. We have to get Grimes and this murderer. He would want no less. The search for Grimes has been ramped up, and we are best placed to find this other killer. They’re related somehow anyway. Now get on to London and find out what you can, and if you run into any roadblocks call me back.”
“Yes Sir.”
Just as he ended the call, his phone rang. He was feeling increasingly tetchy as the morning went on. “Renton here - please be brief.”
“Hello Dad, It’s me, Daniel. We just heard about your friend being shot. Mum and I wondered if you wanted to come around for dinner tonight. We didn’t want you to be on your own when Ben is fighting for his life.”
The rush of emotion overwhelmed him and all he could say was, “Just a minute son, the medical examiner wants to speak to me, can you hold?”
He took several deep breaths and recovered some of his composure.
“Sorry about that Daniel, I’d love to have dinner with the two of you. What time?” After checking with his Mum, Daniel indicated that 7pm would be ideal.
“Great, I’ll be there. Many thanks for the call, you’ve no idea how much it means to me.”
*
It did not take long for Donoghue to get DNA tests underway, and the warrant to search Jackson’s property had been issued. Another call came for Renton, but he accepted this one without a hint of frustration.
“Sir, we’re at the house in Benwell, we haven’t found anything of interest in here yet, but I thought you would want to know that there is a stainless steel knitting needle in the back of his car, and it looks as if it has been wiped, but there are traces of what looks like blood on it.” Renton punched the air and told the officer to get it to Donoghue as soon as he could. When he told Watson the reaction was encouraging.
“Mmm, it could be something like that which killed Pitafi, I’ll check it out when I get back.”
Yet another call came through. “Hello Steph, that was quick, do we know more?”
“Not yet, they’re checking it out, which maybe means that they have to check with Forster. But anyway, I’m ringing about the Sim-card. D.S Adams told me it was sent to your home instead of the office, but I have just signed for it. The courier didn’t have your address and was instructed to bring it here. Do you want me to check it?”
“Yes, do it right away and ring me back. Why the hell would they do that? I specifically asked for it to be sent to my home, so I could receive it yesterday. I’ll ring Forster.” When he got hold of Forster he kept his frustration under control.
“I didn’t get the Sim-card delivered to my home yesterday as I expected, it came to the office today; do you know why?”
“My instructions were to send it immediately to Bradstock, I knew nothing about your request.”
“You knew it was important, didn’t you see what was on it?”
“No, I left in such a flap from Newcastle to get down here. I didn’t even know it was amongst my stuff until Bradstock rang. I thought I had left it up there, but he asked me to look for it. He never said it was because you were chasing it.”
“Don’t you think this is a strange way to run the police force? First I get suspended for an unintentional transgression, and then I’m asked to return before the union makes a stink. I agree, and try to do things by his book by asking for his help to recover the card, only to find he wants to get his hands on it first.”
“I can’t disagree with you. I was initially dragged out of the Midwest to - in his words - ‘seal off any maverick tendency in Newcastle’ because it could prejudice some big strategic programme. Now I am treading water down here under the same pretence. I’ll be talking to Bradstock about my concerns. Don’t worry Jack I’ll keep you out of it.”
“Ok, but before you do pull out, can you send me all the information you have on the two London victims who had Baumann’s ID on them?”
“Yes of course, have you already asked for this?”
“I have, and it wasn’t refused, we just have the impression it’s waiting for someone’s approval.”
“I’ll call you back.”
Renton’s head was already spinning when Stephanie gave him the content of the Sim-card. There was no discrepancy with Angela’s retained handwritten note. He was at a complete loss to understand the whole sequence. He tried to push it out of his mind as he headed back to Newcastle.
Chapter 16
Paul Grimes was relieved when Finley shook his hand and bade him to make haste in getting inside. He was informed that they would wait until dark before driving to the safe house.
“I think it would be wise to get your car to a crusher as they will be looking for it. I’ve arranged for one of the guys to take it away, and he’ll be here any minute. Get yourself a drink from the fridge or a coffee and relax.”
As he opened the fridge door, he sensed someone behind him, but never saw them. The large forestry axe cleaved his head so deeply that it fell open, and blood spurted all over the kitchen as well as the assailant. Without pausing for breath the axe-man proceeded to expertly chop through the main joints of the body until there was a neat pile of parts. They were stuffed into a heavy duty plastic bag and the top was tied tightly. His instructions were to return to the tree-felling area where his machine was waiting. Grimes’ components were emptied as a job lot into the chipper which was already grinding its way through much more resistant spruce branches. He became part of Britain’s ecological effort.
*
Martin Parrish had parked the Mercedes on the ferry and scampered out of the blustery compound to join Vivienne in the bar. She was already halfway down a double gin and tonic, and he ordered a beer.
“Did you know Harry Bowman’s wife Martin? I can only remember being introduced to her at one of the Christmas parties. I can’t recall having spoken to her again.”
“Same here really, I could never picture them as a couple. He was so funny and gregarious, and it just came naturally to him. She struck me as dour and downtrodden when they were together, but I think when it came to the big decisions like where to live, go on holiday, the daughter’s school, he gave way. I was glad I wasn’t in her company too often as she made me feel uncomfortable by what she didn’t say.”
“
Well she had better say something this time, my husband is already dead and she is staring down the barrel of that same feeling, if indeed it hasn’t already happened. By the way, how is your mother?”
“She died three weeks ago.”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry Martin, nobody tells me anything. Why didn’t you say so when I asked you to make this trip? I could have gone by air.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m looking forward to a change of scenery. I visited her grave this morning and took a few flowers. I shouldn’t talk about it because it makes me so angry. You know the expression so well Vivienne – ‘not cost effective.’ The drugs she needed would have made her last few months bearable. How the hell do you define cost effective on compassionate issues? It’s not like we are talking about a new kitchen. If you’ve been a taxpayer all your life and never claimed benefits, I would have thought you’ve contributed to the wealth of the nation. Then you are abandoned when illegal immigrants get housed in London’s luxury homes, until we find they can’t be deported, and they go on to benefit. How is that cost effective? Hey it is my turn to say sorry, do you want another drink?”
“What do you think?”
*
Forster returned Renton’s call.
“Ok Jack, I can’t get anyone to own up to delaying your request, but I have the information anyway. The man found at the abandoned hospital was apparently abandoned himself a couple of years ago. He was struck off after failing in duty of care in a similar mental health establishment to the one in which he was found. His name is Younis Khan. The woman was called Nisha Servil. Is that all you wanted?”
“Yes, unless you can tell me if they are both of Islamic faith?”
“Right, I see where you are coming from. I can try to find out.”
“Thanks, I get the feeling these people, including this morning’s body in the reservoir may not be so randomly chosen after all.”
It was time to check with the hospital. The situation was reported as unchanged.
“This has to be seen as relatively positive news Inspector. He suffered additional trauma during the removal of the bullet. This was a necessary step even though it was an extremely delicate procedure. Being stable at this point is as good as we had hoped for. The next forty-eight hours will give us more data on which to base our prognosis.”
*
With the disappearance of Grimes, Vic Jackson was stranded. The process of identifying the blood on the knitting needle had commenced and Greg Watson had examined it alongside the fatal wound on Pitafi’s body. It was a very close contender, and more would be known soon about the prints on the sturdy, improvised wooden ‘T-piece’ handle. Watson reported that it would have facilitated the act in both aim and the one-handed force required to pass through the unfortunate victim. Renton responded to a message that Jackson wanted to speak with him. He surprisingly declined legal presence. “Can we talk off the record?”
“Victor, you’ve lied so many times already that I’m afraid I can no longer see the point of these chats.”
“But things have changed Mr Renton. I heard two of the officers in the corridor, talking about what happened at my house. It’s very important for me, as well as the police, to find Grimes.”
“Yes I can see that, but there are other things to do while we are trying to locate him. He’s a murderer in his own right, and that has become a separate manhunt. I’m more interested in what he was looking for when he was attempting to break into your house; that is other than the knitting needle we found in your car.” Jackson’s head slumped on to the table.
“Look Mr Renton, I know you’ll have no sympathy with my predicament, but I have to take care of myself. I’ve become a liability to the people who employ Grimes. I’d rather take my chances with him if we are both inside. On the street I’m as good as dead now.”
Renton chuckled at the primal survival instinct of these thugs.
“What happened to honour amongst felons? Now you listen for a change, and listen very carefully. I’m going to give you one more chance to get the whole truth off your chest, but in the presence of your lawyer. Do you understand?”
“I do. But do you understand that Grimes has now become a liability himself? You need to know where to look for him. I might be able to help.”
“You haven’t understood at all. As we are still off the record I can tell you that it wouldn’t cause me to lose any sleep over Grimes’ demise, and we’ll have enough evidence to charge you with the murder of Purdil Pitafi very soon. I don’t think you have any bargaining chips left, and I don’t really see how information you may have makes a hill of beans difference to me. Let’s get the lawyer and you can begin your confession, and take it from there. Once you’re convicted it won’t help your case if you’ve withheld anything that we discover in the meantime. It’s your call.” Jackson agreed.
Renton then gave the London information to Stephanie.
“How does this fit with your hunch about the locations?” She stared at the piece of paper and then looked up at him.
“It certainly doesn’t disqualify it Sir. Do I detect that you think there is another possible connection?”
“Well, that’s what you are paid for – to detect. What do the names mean to you, assuming the locations are of equal significance?” She did not take long to respond.
“Ethnicity! That’s what you are inferring isn’t it? Are we able to….?”
“It’s already in hand Steph. Start looking for a pattern in all of this, it’s staring us in the face and the killer is trying to guide us.”
The lawyer had arrived and more or less accepted that Jackson was going down. He did try to forge a platform for plea bargaining, but when Renton got up to walk out, he folded, and it became a carefully worded confession. In the back of Renton’s mind was Greg Watson’s assertion that Banks’ death occurred before 2am on Sunday 4th November, with the match having finished at just before 5pm on Saturday 3rd. Jackson’s account began with the contract he had taken from Grimes.
“I was given the Alfa Romeo and told to keep it in my garage until the day I had to collect a package. I didn’t know what the package was - only that it was valuable. I was only told where I had to collect it on the day I departed, Saturday the 3rd. It was a warehouse in London. I had some trouble with the car, it’s a bit of a relic and I thought I wasn’t going to get there. I also had some trouble finding the place without Sat-Nav. I was about twenty minutes late. There were three guys waiting, two of them were very unhappy about me being late and got really pissed off when they saw the tiny boot space in the Alfa. The other guy was visibly shitting himself whenever the other two began shouting. The packaging split as they tried to cram it into the car and an arm dangled out. It was my turn to tighten my sphincter, because I was supposed to take the package to the Angel and meet with Grimes. I was trapped and I knew it. I had to go through with it because these people don’t do unfulfilled contracts. I just hoped to hell that this bloody car would get me back to Newcastle.”
Renton felt he had to interject. “So Banks was already dead?”
“Yes.”
“What time was this?”
“A few minutes before 6.30pm, and all I wanted to do was get out of there because of the long drive back.”
“What can you tell us about the third person who was verging on incontinence?”
“He obviously wanted out of there himself. He had a briefcase which he was carrying under his arm and not by the handle. It was like he was hanging on to it as if his life depended on it.”
“Would you recognise him again?
“Absolutely, I will never forget the expression on his face.”
Renton suspended the interview while he went to get a photo of Baumann. “Is this him?”
“That’s the man, who is he?”
“That isn’t important right now. Please continue with your account.”
“I was getting into the car to leave when one of the two brutes came over and told me to
concentrate on the delivery and forget their faces. I also heard the other one shouting to him that they needed to get a move on, they were already late, and the traffic to Heathrow would be horrendous. I got the feeling that if they didn’t get this man in the photo to give them what they wanted he would become disposable. When I did get on to the motorway north I was relieved and didn’t want to stop but I needed fuel. That car attracts a lot of attention so I filled up and then rang Grimes. When I told him the story he seemed a little bit shaken, especially about the man in the photo, and that I said the package was a corpse. He said there would have to be a change of plan. He would need to contact someone else, and told me I would have to arrange the package at the Angel on my own. I got back on the motorway and didn’t stop until I got the bloody car and the body safely into my garage. It was left there until the coast was clear to drop Banks at the Angel in the early hours of Monday morning. I thought everything had gone as well as it could when that bloody car wouldn’t start. The recovery truck guy was almost finished hauling it up the ramp when that young man came trolling along with his dog. He seemed to be a little bit retarded so I relaxed a little and then I got him out of the way. He just whistled for the dog and went along the path. You know the rest. I’m prepared to admit to the manslaughter of Pitafi, but I was acting under duress from Grimes. He said I had been responsible for the cock-up with the package, being late in London, and being seen by witnesses at the Angel. He said that I had to make up for my errors by taking care of Pitafi or take my chances with any measures his bosses might take to erase the trail, that being me.”
“You murdered Pitafi, you must know why.” The legal counsel tried to steer the conversation to manslaughter but Renton ignored him.
“I don’t know why he was targeted, other than Grimes threatening that it was Pitafi or me. It was his car, so I assumed that was the reason – to convince you that he killed Banks.” The interview was terminated, but the forensic tests continued.