by Ted Tayler
“We may need to adjust team selection as we go along, Luke, but I’d prefer Lydia with me when we speak to the widow tomorrow. Neil can spend most of the day in Swindon. Once we’ve finished with Maggie Burnside, I’ll come back here. You and I can then take a trip to confront Gary Burnside.”
“Got it, guv,” said Luke.
“Gablecross has got me booked in for first thing, guv,” said Neil.
“We’ll have a chat before you leave tonight, Neil. Don’t speak to Jake Latimer direct for the time being, understood?”
“Whatever you say, guv,” said Neil.
Gus thumbed through the names of people he believed could provide the answers to Grant Burnside’s murder. His first interview would be with Maggie Burnside, Grant’s widow. She was less than six months older than him, not that they had much else in common. Lydia might encourage Maggie to relax and say more than she intended.
If the Burnside clan operated the way he believed it did, then Maggie wouldn’t go short of money. They would take care of her until she died. Odd how the word matriarch held little relevance in today’s world. Respect for their elders was universal in European and Asian cultures. Here in the UK, it was primarily the travelling fraternity and criminals that embraced it.
Gus imagined Maggie to be a gentle entrée to the main course tomorrow. A face-to-face with Gary Burnside, the current head of the gang. Patrick Iverson would be poised, ready to leap in where a question demanded a straight answer. He could hear Gary practising his ‘no comment’ response already. Gus had ways to combat those tactics. He liked to encourage people to talk on their favourite subject. If you offered men like Burnside an opportunity to tell you how great they were, they found it difficult to resist. Perhaps the odd word or phrase would slip past Iverson, the censor, and Gus could learn something valuable.
Gus had left Glyn and Gina off the list for the time being. He fancied discovering how Henry and Joseph ticked. They took after their mother in looks. Did that influence the way they responded to Gary as head of the family and the gang? Could they have worked together to remove Grant as a pre-cursor to wresting control from Gary?
As for Kerry, Gus thought Neil would work best as the lead interviewer. He might sit in but play a watching brief.
When Luke checked the availability of the enforcers, Drewett and Hodge, the latter was in HMP Bristol. Hodge went to prison for demanding money with menaces in 2016. Drewett should have been in the cell with him, but he escaped before police raided his house. His current whereabouts were unknown, although his mother did receive a postcard from Nesebar on the Black Sea coast of Bulgaria last summer.
Gus wondered whether they should bother approaching Grenville Edwards and Manny Franchetti. When Gary agreed to meet with him without hesitation, Gus realised that the Burnside gang were no closer to finding Grant’s killer than they were. Edwards and Franchetti were still alive, so neither did the deed themselves or paid for it. Luke could run a check on known associates in Bristol and Reading to discover if anyone had disappeared in the past four years. They could leave the two gang leaders on the back burner for now.
Luke received four names to add to the list Gus had passed across. It was half-past four and almost time to call it a day.
Gus had added the names of Fergus McHugh, the old farmer and his neighbour, Sylvia Kerr. They were unlikely to add little more than background information. The same went for the third name. Andy Wilkinson, the car repairer, working on the morning Grant Burnside died. The last name was Amanda Todd, Howard’s sister. Hang on. There was at least one name missing.
“What about Patrick Iverson, guv?” asked Luke.
“Do we need a separate interview with him, Luke?” asked Gus. “We’ll see him half a dozen times with the other family members. If there’s something we think he can add, we’ll grill him before and after each session.”
“That might annoy him, guv,” said Luke.
“Exactly,” said Gus, “he might let something slip that helps us make progress. Anyone else you think I’ve missed?”
“Gary’s wife, Kirstin, guv,” said Luke, “surely she offers another insight into the Burnside family dynamic.”
“Something tells me Kirstin will be present when we chat with her mother-in-law,” said Gus. “Iverson will be with Gary, going through what they’re going to say when we meet them later in the day. The scheduling of the interviews wasn’t an accident. My thinking is that Gary will instruct Kirstin to be his eyes and ears in our meeting with Grant’s widow. We believed that Maggie was on a short leash while Grant was alive; it’s reasonable to assume that Kirstin doesn’t get treated any better.”
Lydia, Luke, and Neil continued to prepare for the following day’s interviews. Gus ploughed through the back pages of the murder file, searching for additional scraps of information that might get him a toehold in this baffling case.
At five o’clock, Luke and Lydia made their way to the lift. Neil Davis approached Gus’s desk.
“You wanted a word before I left, guv?”
“A word to the wise,” said Gus, “and a few tips for tomorrow’s trip to Gablecross.
Five minutes later they went down in the lift to the car park.
“Goodnight, guv,” said Neil, “I’ll see you late tomorrow afternoon, or first thing on Wednesday.”
“Are we good, Neil?” asked Gus.
“We’re good, guv,” said Neil, “it won’t happen again.”
Tuesday, 19th June 2018
After a forty-five minute drive from home, Neil Davis arrived at Gablecross Police Station, negotiated Reception, and went in search of the detective squad hidden in the rabbit warren.
Neil knew he would recognise DS Jake Latimer. They had met on the Laura Mallinder case at the end of April and spent a crazy weekend interviewing girls from massage parlours across three counties. He was keen to learn how Jake had fared since they worked together.
Gus had given him a brief rundown of the tactics he wanted him to use before leaving work last night. Neil was to plead ignorance of the case. To encourage Jake or anyone else he collared, to divulge more than if they believed the CRT already had the facts at their fingertips.
Neil also knew that Gus would appreciate a catch-up on what happened to DI Theo Hickerton. The DI hadn’t covered himself in glory when he handled the original Laura Mallinder murder investigation. Hickerton reckoned the girl had brought it on herself through her choice of profession. Why waste valuable time looking for her killer? Sometimes life has a way of paying you back for your misguided actions. Theo Hickerton got stabbed in the chest by Laura’s killer, Ahmet Tekin when they interviewed him.
Neil had reckoned that Ian Hewson; Laura’s ex-boyfriend had done it. The chat with Tekin should have been straightforward enough. Neil expected the Turkish barber to confirm that Hewson had been in the parlour that evening. Nobody guessed how much Tekin had loved his beautiful Laura.
As soon as Theo Hickerton posed his first question, Tekin lashed out with a blade fashioned from half a pair of his hairdressing scissors. The same weapon he’d used to stab Laura in the back in a frenzied attack. Love can be a strange emotion. The chest wound didn’t prove fatal, but the affair ended Hickerton’s hopes of further advancement in his career.
Neil pushed through the door into the squad room. It was a hive of inactivity. Well, it was early, Neil thought. There were a lot of empty desks, but Neil spotted the back of a familiar head on the far side of the room by the window.
“I see you’ve snagged yourself a desk with a view since we were here last then, Jake?”
“Neil Davis, as I live and breathe. What are you doing here?” asked Jake.
“I called yesterday afternoon to arrange to talk with anyone who worked on the Grant Burnside murder back in 2014. Didn’t the message get through? Where is everyone? It’s far quieter in here than when Gus Freeman and I were here ten weeks ago.”
“They called several guys in for a six o’clock raid on addresses across Swind
on. They were after the usual suspects, the villains living in Park North, Rodbourne, and Pinehurst. Our detectives won’t be back before lunchtime. Early reports suggest they found a shitload of stolen goods.”
“Never a dull moment,” said Neil.
“Talking of which, you’ve had a right old time of it, haven’t you? I was sorry to hear about your Dad, Neil. He was Marmite in this station, they either hated Terry’s guts or thought he was a good copper. I never met him, but he didn’t deserve that.”
“Thanks, Jake. I don’t know whether the news filtered through yet. We identified the guy that killed him.”
“It doesn’t take long for good news to reach us, even this far north,” grinned Jake.
“I suppose not,” said Neil. “After working on the case immediately after Dad’s murder, Gus insisted I took a break. So, while the others got involved in making headlines, I was sorting out Dad’s affairs and heard events second hand.”
“I get you,” said Jake. “When your female DI got herself kidnapped, and our Chief Constable topped herself, well, you can imagine the rumours that circulated within these four walls.”
“That was perfectly understandable. Several of us met up for a few beers on Friday night,” said Neil, “celebrating yet another cold case getting completed. There was an extra victory to chalk up too for the Crime Review Team. A result that might not reach the public domain for a while.”
“The victory you’re referring to relates to those rumours I mentioned, I take it,” said Jake. “If it’s under wraps, then it smells like someone did something nasty on your doorstep. Am I right?”
“ACC Culverhouse from Portishead will get charged with the murder of Ricky Gardiner. Culverhouse and Sandra Plunkett paid Gardiner to kill my Dad to hide a hit-and-run accident they failed to report. A young man died back in 2011 when Culverhouse and Plunkett were returning from a Bramshill reunion. The Chief Constable couldn’t live with the shame of the truth coming out about that and her involvement in DI Ferris’s kidnapping. Gardiner got paid for that job too. Culverhouse was a chancer, even back when he was my Dad’s boss. He deserves everything he gets.”
“I can’t abide dirty cops,” said Jake, “it’s hard enough in this job when everyone is pulling together. I don’t know how you keep up with everything at Devizes these days, Neil. Something happens every week. You know who gets the blame for that, don’t you?”
“Gus Freeman, I suppose?” said Neil with a smile. “He gets the job done. I’ll give him that. There was no way Gus was sitting on his hands when Suzie Ferris disappeared. He’s got the hots for her alright.”
“Hang on, wasn’t he seeing somebody else when you were here last? Someone in her mid-fifties. That DI Ferris is only a few years older than me.”
“Gus and Vera are still good friends as I understand it, but Suzie Ferris made a move on Gus before those two got too involved. From the way she behaved around Gus last Friday, I reckon it’s serious. The late Chief Constable must have recognised that too because she and Culverhouse made Suzie Ferris the kidnapper’s target, not Vera Jennings, or Butler as she is now. As for your other comment, I don’t think Gus deliberately looks for trouble. He’s just one of those coppers whose instinct tells him when something isn’t right, and he can’t resist following up on a niggle he gets until he’s rooted out the culprit. We’re expanding the team from next week because he’s good at what he does, and the Acting Chief Constable wants as many cold cases off the books as he can get while Gus is on this winning streak. There are plenty of unsolved crimes on the list. It never ends, does it, Jake?”
“No, it doesn’t,” agreed Jake, blowing out his cheeks. “Yet we’re far from being a prolific crime county. Heaven knows how they cope in the big cities, mate. Where are my manners, do you fancy a cuppa?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” laughed Neil, “I had nothing before I left home.”
“What, the lovely Melody didn’t get up to cook your breakfast?”
“She’s staying with her mother at the moment,” said Neil.
“Oh no, don’t tell me another copper’s marriage has gone down the toilet?”
“Melody suffered a miscarriage brought on by the stress of my Dad’s death. She’s struggling to get over it. We both are.”
“Heck, I’m sorry, Neil. I had no idea. Me and my big mouth.”
“It’s okay, Jake. Melody’s depressed, that’s understandable. Her mother and I are working on bringing her out of it, but it’s proving a long job.”
Jake brought two mugs of coffee back to the desk.
“There you go, Neil. Have that. It’ll put hairs on your chest.”
“Well, now you know what’s been going on in my world. How’s your love life?”
Jake grinned.
“Who’s the unlucky girl?” asked Neil.
“You know her, mate. I’m not fluent yet, but my Lithuanian is coming along.”
“Janina?”
“That wasn’t her actual name,” said Jake, “Lina works at Tesco Direct now. I went back to visit her, semi-professionally, the weekend after you and I interviewed her. My rugged good looks and boyish charm persuaded her to agree to a proper date. It’s early days, but it might prove to be the best thing I ever did.”
“You lucky dog,” said Neil. “One more thing before you tell me what you know about Burnside. What’s Theo Hickerton up to these days?”
“As soon as he returned from sick leave, they transferred him to Traffic,” said Jake.
“Oh, dear, the elephant’s graveyard. How did Hickerton take that?”
“He’s not a happy bunny, anyway, back to the matter in hand. I never got your message, Neil, and that was because it was Hickerton who helped lead that murder investigation. It explains why nobody told me you were on your way.”
“Were you on his team back then, too, Jake?” asked Neil.
“For my sins, yes. Have you not heard of the Burnside clan?”
Neil shook his head. Jake might add to the knowledge he’d gathered yesterday.
“Let me fill you in on his background,” said Jake. “Grant Burnside came up the hard way on Park North, one of the most deprived estates in the town. His father was a criminal, and when George Burnside wasn’t inside, he was always drinking. Young Grant got home from school to find George drunk, asleep on the sofa. His mother, Nessie, would tend to her cuts and bruises in the kitchen. Not a brilliant start for a lad. Is it any wonder Grant soon got into trouble himself? The older detectives here when I joined Wiltshire Police used to tell me stories about Grant. When he got nicked as a juvenile, he told the court he came from a broken home. He was looking for sympathy, of course, and believe it or not; it worked once or twice. Nessie kept the family together despite everything. Grant had four brothers and a sister. There was never a time when they got taken into care. So, the only time the home was ‘broken’ was when George returned from prison, got drunk, and smashed up the place.”
“Are the brothers still around?” asked Neil.
“Only Glyn Burnside, and he’s seventy now. He doesn’t cause us any trouble. Glyn had early-onset Alzheimer’s. Legend has it that Glyn was a handful too when he was in his teens and twenties. He had more fights than Rocky Marciano, but unlike the Brockton Blockbuster, he lost a helluva lot more than he won. I think you can guess Grant’s sister’s name?”
“Um, does it start with a G?” asked Neil.
“They weren’t very imaginative in the Burnside clan. Gina’s still working if you’re interested. She must be in her mid-sixties now, but she still struts her stuff on Manchester Road.”
“I’ll pass, thanks,” said Neil, “so back to Grant’s story.”
“Well-paid jobs for those with no qualifications were scarce when Grant left school at sixteen. So he started stealing on a more serious level alongside his brothers. He’d already got nicked for shoplifting and what’s now call anti-social behaviour. After getting nicked a couple of times and spending their early twenties in prison,
the brothers went to mainland Europe. Security was nowhere near as tight in shops and supermarkets over there. The brothers scheduled the trips to coincide with mid-week football matches. When Border Security staff spotted that a crowd of Leeds or Liverpool supporters were heading their way they couldn’t get them through quick enough. Grant, Glyn and the others reckoned the cost of a replica shirt every few weeks was well worth it.”
“I’m assuming Grant was head of the gang by then,” said Neil. “Who else was involved, and what were they into?”
“Let’s start with the family,” said Jake, leaning back and relaxing in his chair. “Gary is the oldest son. He’s married to Kirstin, who’s eight years younger. A stunner is our Kirstin, but not that bright. She married Gary for his money and stays as far away from his line of work as possible. Kirstin is the only adult Burnside family member I’ve met that doesn’t have a criminal record. Gary and Kirstin have two kids. One of each at the moment, until they get to junior school, and the teachers try to persuade them to try one of the dozen options available in this modern world.”
“I’ve had no doubts about my sexuality, Jake, have you?” asked Neil.
“Stupid question, mate,” said Jake. “You’ve met Lina. Anyway, I don’t want to know how Grant and Maggie managed it with his frequent spells behind bars, but Gary has three younger siblings. Stay seated, Neil. I don’t want you falling over in shock. Henry was next off the production line. He’s single, forty-six years old, two years younger than Gary, and he controls the drug dealers. Grant and Maggie must have gone through the telephone directory to check which letters came next because Henry was followed by Joseph two years later. Joseph handles the traffickers and getting the goods to Henry. Another two-year gap followed, and this might have been when Maggie decided enough was enough. They had a girl, at last, and she was named Kerry. When you meet Gary, you’ll see that he takes after his father in looks. Six-feet-tall and sixteen stones of muscle. Henry and Joseph inherited a few of Maggie’s qualities, which made them shorter and thinner.”