‘Tell us about Dougal Stewart,’ Wendy asked.
‘That was Devlin’s idea.’
‘Devlin?’ Larry preferred full names to save any confusion later on.
‘Devlin O’Shaughnessy. I thought we were going to rough him up, frighten him. We knew he was stealing, but that’s hardly a reason to kill the man.’
‘But you were willing to tie him up to a beam with a rope?’
‘I’m a hard case, violence comes easily to me. I had no issue with giving him and Pinto a good thrashing.’
‘That’s been your life, hasn’t it?’ Larry said.
Walters sat calmly on his side of the cell. Wendy could see that the man had made an attempt at altering his appearance. They had been looking for a smallish, well-muscled man with tattooed arms and straggly hair. The man they were interviewing was certainly on the short side, even shorter than Wendy. She estimated his height at five feet seven inches. He wore a suit with a tie, and his hair had been cut short. He also sported a pair of glasses. They looked prescription, but Wendy thought they were the style that you could buy in any pharmacy.
‘I’ve always looked out for myself.’
‘We have your prison record. We know of your convictions for crimes of violence.’
‘I’ve not killed anyone, at least not in this country.’
‘Fuentes. What can you tell us about him?’
‘I knew what O’Shaughnessy was planning to do. Fuentes had been undercutting us.’
‘Why are you telling us?’ Wendy asked. ‘You’re admitting to your involvement in the importation and distribution of Class A drugs.’
‘What’s the sentence for that? Ten years, out in seven for good behaviour.’
‘It’s more than that, but you’ll get out at some stage.’
‘That’s how I see it.’
‘With sufficient money in your pocket,’ Larry added.
‘If you say so. I didn’t kill anyone. I’m not going to jail for that.’
‘We need details about Fuentes. Unless we can prove that you were not involved in any murders, you’ll be convicted for the killings of Stewart and Fuentes.’
‘And Pinto?’
‘We’ve charged O’Shaughnessy with that murder. However, if you want to confess to your involvement…’
‘Not a chance.’
Wendy looked over at Larry. He shook his head imperceptibly. He knew that she wanted to tell him that he had forgotten about the death of Alex Hughenden. He had not.
‘O’Shaughnessy told me he needed me to deal with Rodrigo Fuentes,’ Walters said.
‘Will you testify to that?’ Wendy asked.
‘If I get a reduction in my sentence.’
‘That will depend on the judge.’
‘He’ll go for it; they always do.’
‘You’re very confident.’
‘I’ve been there before.’
‘They don’t like people who grass, on the inside,’ Wendy reminded Walters.
‘I can handle myself.’
‘Coming back to Fuentes,’ Larry said. ‘What happened?’
‘O’Shaughnessy had received instruction that Fuentes had to disappear; give a warning to anyone else who fancied their chances.’
‘Where were you the night of his murder?’
‘I was shacked up with a woman.’
‘Will she give you an alibi?’
‘It’s hardly likely.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know her name. We met down the pub. By the time we got back to her place, we were both drunk. I can’t even remember if I screwed her, although she said I did and she was demanding money.’
‘What happened?’
‘I told her to shut up and gave her a couple of hundred pounds.’
‘And O’Shaughnessy killed Fuentes. Did he tell you afterwards?’
‘After a few beers.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He told me that he took him down the river for a few miles, tied chains around his ankles and tossed him over the side. O’Shaughnessy said the man cried like a baby.’
‘What was your reaction?’
‘Nothing. I just ordered another pint.’
‘No sorrow for the man O’Shaughnessy had murdered?’
‘I’m a violent person. Maybe I’ll end up one day dead in a ditch. I’ve got no strong views either way on Fuentes or anyone else. I’ve killed plenty of men in my time.’
‘Your time in the army?’
‘Then I received a medal, and most of those that I killed in the name of Queen and country were decent people; just on the enemy’s side. Kill scum as a civilian, and they send you to prison. Makes no sense to me, but I don’t think much about it.’
‘You would kill if it was necessary?’
‘I’m not answering that question,’ Walters said. ‘What’s your plan now?’
‘We’re transferring you to London.’
‘Not the same place as O’Shaughnessy.’
‘We’ll keep you apart. What about Lord Allerton?’
‘Who’s he?’
‘He’s the man in the Bentley who you pushed over the side of a quarry.’
‘I don’t know about that.’
‘Alex Hughenden, will you deny that you killed him as well?’
‘Yes.’
Steve Walters sat still. He may not have been as smart as O’Shaughnessy, but he knew he had said too much.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Larry said. ‘We’ve enough to convict you. This interview will be admissible at your trial.’
‘You bastard,’ Walters said. He attempted to get up from his chair to come at Larry.
‘Don’t do it.’ Larry said.
Walters sat down again.
***
‘Commissioner Davies is delighted,’ DCS Goddard said on the phone.
‘You’ve told him?’ Isaac asked, knowing full well that Richard Goddard would be the first to claim credit for Challis Street’s Homicide team.
‘You’re off the hook. That’s five murders solved.’
‘Five convictions. We’ve got enough evidence now. We’ve still not found the people behind the scenes.’
‘Are they important?’ Goddard asked.
‘You know they are.’
‘I suppose I was naïve to think you’d let it rest. Okay, work with Serious and Organised Crime Command, but I can only give you forty-eight hours. Will that be sufficient?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Isaac replied.
‘And don’t forget the paperwork. I want O’Shaughnessy’s and Walter’s cases to be watertight.’
‘They will be.’
Later that day, the full team were back in Challis Street. Len Donaldson was holding the mug that Bridget had bought him. Larry and Wendy had arrived back from Manchester two hours earlier. The day was drawing to a close, but everyone was on a high.
‘Walters?’ Isaac asked.
‘They’ll hold him in a local prison up there; transfer him to London tomorrow.’
‘Great work getting his statement.’
‘We should thank the people at the airport. I saw the forged passport, it was good. I wouldn’t have picked it.’
‘Len, do you want to speak?’ Isaac asked.
‘Thanks. Our attempts to find Keith Codrington have drawn a blank so far. We believe he may have left the country. That’s the only likely explanation.’
‘Any idea where?’
‘Somewhere we can’t get him back. And he’s probably assumed another identity.’
‘We’ll focus on Griffiths and Fortescue,’ Larry said.
‘What do we have on Fortescue?’ Isaac asked.
‘We can prove that Allerton’s and Griffiths’ cars were parked in the vicinity of Fortescue’s house on the day in question,’ Larry said.
‘Circumstantial?’
‘It’s not likely.’
‘But can you prove it?’
‘No. We also know that Codrington was there.’
&nb
sp; ‘How?’
‘We conducted a few door knocks.’
‘And?’
‘A neighbour identified his photo.’
‘Do we have a recent photo of the man?’
‘Only a passport photo, but she bumped into him as she left her house. Supposedly her dog’s lead became entangled around his legs.’
‘What did she say about him?’
‘She said he was polite and gracious, not like Fortescue who was always complaining about the dog barking. She also said he often had one woman or another around.’
‘If you can prove Codrington was there, and there’s enough evidence to lay charges against him, then we’ve enough to pull Fortescue in.’
‘What proof do we have against Codrington?’ Wendy asked.
‘Phone records from Hughenden to him.’
‘We still don’t know if they are from Codrington,’ Donaldson said.
‘Fortescue doesn’t either.’
‘Are you planning to lie to Fortescue?’
‘Are you in agreement?’ Isaac asked.
‘Totally,’ Donaldson’s reply.
‘Larry, you know what to do.’
‘My pleasure. I can’t wait to see the face on that sanctimonious bastard who reported us when I visit him next.’
Chapter 25
Miles Fortescue did not expect to see the two police officers that he had reported on his doorstep in Ebury Street.
‘Mr Fortescue, we have some questions for you,’ Larry said with a sense of joy. He savoured the man’s expression when he had opened the door.
‘Detective Inspector Hill. I thought you would have had enough after the last time we met.’
‘My visit’s official. We have some questions for you,’ Larry said again. He had ensured a marked police car was parked outside. Wendy could see curtains twitching up and down the street.
‘Not today. I’m busy.’
‘It’s official. I could enforce your attendance at Challis Street Police Station.’
‘Very well. Give me five minutes.’ The door to the house slammed shut in Larry’s face. Not that he minded, as he knew the man was angry.
Inside the house, Fortescue picked up his phone. ‘Jacob, the police are here.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’ve no option. I’ve got to go with them.’
‘But they’ve no proof.’
‘How would I know? I’m a politician. I can’t hide everything.’
‘What should I do?’ Griffiths asked.
‘Make a run for it. If I get free of them, I’m off.’
Ten minutes later, Miles Fortescue left by the front door of his house. ‘My lawyer will be at Challis Street. I’ll drive my own car,’ he said.
‘That’s fine. We’ll meet at the station.’
At Challis Street Police Station, Isaac and Len Donaldson sat discussing tactics.
‘We’re taking a risk with this man,’ Donaldson said.
‘We’re following the agreed procedures. He’s a material witness.’
‘This man has influential friends. If we fail to break him, he’ll make sure we’re dealt with.’
‘Are you saying we should go easy on him?’ Isaac asked. The fellow DCIs had achieved mutual admiration for each other. Isaac was testing the waters.
‘Not at all. I’m just reminding ourselves that with this man it’s break or bust.’
‘Either he breaks, or we’re bust.’
‘That’s it.’
***
Jacob Griffiths pondered what to do. He had enough funds outside of the country to maintain his lifestyle, but he had a business that he enjoyed and a wife he loved. He was seen throughout the country as a solid businessman who through sheer hard work, a suitable amount of derring-do, and a lot of charisma had achieved great success. He had always given to worthy causes, received honorary doctorates from two universities, and was often recognised in the street, and now he was contemplating throwing it all away.
He did not want to, but what were the alternatives? Fortescue had some protection, he was sure of that. The man was a politician, and they would not want one of their own lambasted in the press and then languishing in one of Her Majesty’s prisons. Fortescue was confident that if they convicted him, it would be of the lesser charge of funding an illegal activity: two years at most, and he may even keep his generous politician’s pension.
Griffiths knew that Fortescue was secure, whereas he was not. Some competitors would revel in his ignominy; even refer to it in subtle advertising. It was what he would do if the situation were reversed. He knew his options were limited. He would give Fortescue his time with the police. If the man left there unscarred, then maybe he would stay, but Jacob Griffiths was a pragmatist; he knew that Fortescue was his own man, always had been, even at Eton. When the others were bending the rules, the man would be standing back, ready to distance himself, and now when they faced their greatest challenge, Griffiths had little faith in a man who had taken part in that pact all those years ago.
He cursed Timothy Allerton for his lack of backbone, Keith Codrington for running out on them, and Miles Fortescue for what he would do, but mostly he cursed himself for what he had brought on himself.
***
News travelled fast. No sooner had Fortescue left his house than the social media started to speculate about what he was doing with a police car outside his door. DCI Isaac Cook suspected a nosey neighbour had released the information.
By the time the reluctant politician arrived at Challis Street Police Station, the government Whip was on the phone asking him questions.
Fortescue, after putting off the Whip, went into the police station. Isaac met him on his arrival; offered him his hand only to have it rebuffed. ‘What’s this all about?’ Fortescue asked.
‘We’ll discuss it in the interview room,’ Isaac replied. He needed to go hard on this man, and he did not want to be seen as ingratiating.
In the interview room, Fortescue was joined by Archie Cameron, his QC. ‘My client has come here at your request. He is willing to help you, but if this is a waste of time…’
Isaac looked at the QC. He saw a little man with a beak of a nose, his spectacles balancing precariously on the end.
Isaac conducted the formalities. Len Donaldson sat to his side.
‘Mr Fortescue, you are a personal friend of Lord Allerton, Jacob Griffiths and Keith Codrington,’ Isaac said.
‘You know that.’
‘We have in custody Lord Allerton’s murderer.’
‘So what’s that got to do with me?’ Fortescue replied.
‘On the day of his death, Lord Allerton was present at a meeting in your house.’
‘Was he?’
‘We have proof that Keith Codrington was there, as well as Jacob Griffiths.’
‘What proof?’ Cameron asked. ‘Hearsay has no validity here.’
Len Donaldson sat quietly, biding his time.
‘We have a witness for Codrington. Allerton’s and Griffiths’ vehicles were parked nearby. Do you deny that Keith Codrington visited your house on the day in question?’
‘Are you trying to imply that my client is implicated in the death of Lord Allerton?’ Cameron asked.
‘We are not implying anything,’ Donaldson said. ‘What we do know is that the bank accounts of Miles Fortescue, Jacob Griffiths, and Lord Allerton have received substantial funds in the last year.’
‘And?’ Cameron asked. Fortescue sat quietly, unsure what to say.
Go easy, Donaldson. We’ve not proven that yet, Isaac said to himself.
‘Is it true that you, Miles Fortescue, along with others were involved in the importation of illegal drugs into this country?’ Len Donaldson was tired of procrastination.
‘My client vigorously denies any such accusations. He is well-respected in this country. Unless you have something more concrete, I would suggest that you conclude this interview.’
‘Mr Fortescue, were you personal
ly involved in the death of Alex Hughenden?’
‘I’ve never heard of the man. This is preposterous nonsense. You may have reason to talk to Keith Codrington, but I’ve committed no crime.’
‘Yet he still visited your house on the day in question,’ Donaldson asked.
‘Okay, he did visit my house, but that can hardly be construed as an admission of guilt on my part,’ Fortescue said.
‘Coming back to your previous statement,’ Isaac said. He had seen an inconsistency. ‘Why did you say that we may have a reason to talk to him? I don’t believe we’ve indicated that he is our primary suspect.’
‘Miles, say no more,’ Cameron said quietly to his client.
‘I request an adjournment for thirty minutes to confer with my client,’ the lawyer said, addressing Isaac.
***
‘Miles, what’s the truth?’ Cameron asked. ‘What’s Codrington been up to?’
‘You’ve known the man as long as I have. He was always pushing the envelope.’
‘Are you involved?’
‘I might have lent him some money.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘He was in debt. He was trying to set up another business, and he wanted me as a silent partner. That’s all.’
‘What type of business?’
‘Import. The same as he had been doing in the Middle East.’
‘Importing what?’ Cameron asked. It was true that he had known Keith Codrington almost as long as Fortescue; they had all been in the same year at Eton College. However, Cameron had never been friendly with Fortescue or Codrington, and he had detested Timothy Allerton, but time had moved on, and Fortescue, an Old Etonian, needed help.
‘He said food products from the Middle East.’
‘And?’
‘It wasn’t.’
‘Don’t tell me what it was.’
‘I didn’t realise at first the extent of the trade,’ Fortescue said calmly. He knew he was in trouble, and Cameron, the snotty little boy as he was at Eton, was his best chance.
‘Did he return your investment?’
‘Tenfold.’
‘A lot of food products,’ Cameron said as he sat back in his chair. The man was no fool; he knew what was going on. He just didn’t want to know from Fortescue’s mouth.
DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 1 Page 105