by Keith Nixon
That caught Gray by surprise. “I hadn’t thought about it to be honest. My wife is a local. She has lots of friends in the area, particularly through church.”
“She’s the God-fearing kind?” Copeland spoke as if religion were witchcraft.
“Kate believes, yes.”
Copeland pulled a face, which rankled with Gray. Although he no longer believed, others had the right to do so. “Anyway, plenty of places to bend the knee to hoodoo around the country.”
“What are you suggesting, Terry?”
“After this I’m expecting a promotion. Not immediately, but it’ll come. It can’t be in Thanet, the place is too small for me. I’d like to take you two with me as my wing men because you get my methods. It’ll mean uprooting your families, but that’s to be expected in the police. It’s no different in the private sector. Go where the jobs are, right?”
Neither Carslake or Gray responded. Gray knew Carslake was ambitious, but family was extremely important to him as well. Gray felt lightheaded after all the booze. And the resurfacing of Copeland’s narcissism in the last quarter of an hour meant the positivity he’d begun to feel towards him evaporated.
Gray stood up. “Thank you for dinner, sir, but I’m tired and I’m off to bed.”
Copeland blinked in surprise. “Is this you turning me down, DC Gray?”
“I’m afraid I think I’m going to, sir.”
“That’s a pity. I hope you don’t regret your decision.”
“Somehow I doubt it, sir.”
Gray left the restaurant and walked back to the hotel.
Thirty Nine
Now
Sylvia, Carslake’s PA and 1950s throwback, looked up in surprise when Gray barged into the office.
“Sergeant!” she shouted, as Gray carried on into Carslake’s office.
“Where is he?”
Sylvia stepped back, a hand bright with several colours of fingernail polish, across her mouth.
“He’s not here.”
“I can see that!”
“He’s on a day off.”
“At home?”
“No, taken his grandchildren to Dreamland, I think. Do you want me to call him for you?”
“Don’t bother, I’ll find him.”
“You’re suspended.” It was Smits, standing in the doorway. He’d been in the cupboard-cum-office when Gray had marched past. “What are you doing here, Sergeant?” Momentarily, Smits attempted to block Gray’s path, but when he saw the look on Gray’s face he stepped aside.
Gray, bounding down the stairs, made a call on his mobile to Usher and told him where Carslake was, ignoring Smit’s echoing shout after him. He slammed open the fire door at the rear of the station, leapt into his car and screeched out of the car park. He raced along the esplanade, weaving in and out of the traffic. At the clock tower roundabout, he went straight over without pause, causing several cars to slam on their brakes. He ignored the blare of horns.
The bright lights of the amusement arcades flashed by. A few hundred yards along was the entrance to Dreamland. Arlington House, a block of residential flats, loomed like a dirty iceberg overhead, casting a long shadow. Gray bumped the car up onto the pavement. He jumped out of the car and dashed to Dreamland’s entrance, which was located down an alley. At the turnstile Gray held out his warrant card and pushed his way through.
Inside, he paused. The park wasn’t very busy. Some families milled around, wandering between the rides – a mix of the past and the present. Dodgems, roundabouts, slides. The scenic railway, the loops and curves of the oldest rollercoaster in the country, was towards the rear. A Ferris wheel towered over everything. Gray jogged through the park, his head twisting from side to side, desperate to find him.
His mobile rang. It was Carslake.
“I know,” said Gray.
“You don’t.”
“Where are you?”
“At the foot of the scenic railway.” Carslake clicked off.
Gray found him off to one side of the railway where it was quieter and nobody passed by. Carslake was over the protective fence, standing near the tracks. Gray followed.
“Don’t come any nearer, Sol,” said Carslake when Gray was within six feet. Just then the carriages rattled by on the railway, hitting the bottom of a steep downward curve. The screams of the passengers apparently enjoying the fear were deafening for a few seconds.
“Where are your grandkids?” asked Gray.
“Juliette has them. We’re back where it all started. Where’s the time gone?”
“We were friends.”
“We are friends. Sometimes events just overtake us. Ah, hello Duncan.” Carslake smiled. “We’re all here now.” Usher stood next to Gray.
“Did you kill my wife?” asked Usher.
Carslake shrugged.
“She was his informant,” said Gray. “Right, Jeff? There could be nobody better placed than the wife of the boss.”
“How did you know?”
“Craig Mundby saw you going into Valerie’s house. Repeatedly.”
“Who?” Carslake thought for a moment. “Oh, the slow lad. I was lucky it was Craig and not Usher who saw me. I was stupid to screw somebody else’s wife in their own house. How did you find out, Sol?”
Usher took a step forward, a thunderous look on his face. Gray put out a hand and stopped him. “Not yet.”
“Sol’s right,” said Carslake. “There’s more to discuss.” Another set of carriages hammered by, forcing a pause. When it was gone Carslake continued, “Copeland was putting us all under pressure to get a result with Usher. And when Val fell into my lap, I took the opportunity. She was an amazing woman.”
“You were sleeping with her?”
“I was, Sol.”
Usher growled.
“What happened that day?”
“She wanted me to leave my wife and move in with her. It would have cost me everything. Job, family, reputation. I couldn’t.”
“She wouldn’t take no for an answer,” said Usher.
“Correct, Duncan. And I did say no. She’d got her mother to babysit girls, so we had the place to ourselves. I ignored the risk that Duncan could have turned up at any time, too taken with Valerie. God, my head was a whirl of emotions. She told me she wanted out from Duncan.”
“And you were the ticket.”
“So it seemed. I didn’t plan to kill her. I’d gone round to tell her it was over. She persuaded me into bed, for old times’ sake. I couldn’t resist. There was something about her, something that made you want her.”
“It’s called weakness, Jeff,” said Gray.
“Maybe. I still miss her, you know.”
“And my children do too,” said Usher, clenching his fists.
“I’m sorry for that, I really am. Afterwards, when we were in bed she told me to leave my wife. I told her I couldn’t. Then came the tears, the threats. And then she was lying on her back, her eyes open, staring at the ceiling, my hands around her throat.”
Usher took a step forward. Gray pushed him backwards. He felt the anger boiling off Usher and wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep him in check. But Carslake didn’t appear to notice. “I panicked. Sleeping with an informant was bad enough, but murder? I couldn’t go to jail.”
“You set up Craig Mundby to take the fall.”
“Craig,” laughed Carslake, shaking his head. “He was always so keen to please.” Carslake paused as more carriages rattled past. “It’s been hard, Sol. Keeping everything quiet all these years.”
“My heart bleeds. Who helped you? McGavin?”
“Actually no. It was Copeland. I called him in a panic. He came round and told me everything was all right, that actually it played into his hands. He told me he’d clean the room then leave. When I arrived at the scene an hour later, officially on duty…” Carslake shuddered. “I hadn’t expected to find Craig bleeding out. I almost threw up. I wanted to go to Val, I couldn’t though. I had to get on with it. Ever since then I
’ve been drawn deeper into doing things I didn’t want to.” Carslake sighed. “It’s the echoes of the dead, Sol. They’re with me all the time.”
“What about Tom? What did you do to Tom?” Gray demanded.
“I protected him; made sure he was safe and always would be.”
“Tom’s alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. I gave him to somebody else to deal with.”
Now it was Gray’s turn to show his rage. “You destroyed my family, Jeff. My wife died because of you.”
“And mine,” said Usher.
“Several people have died because of me. They’re just two more in a long list. I can’t go to prison, Sol.”
The rumble of the carriages approaching was getting louder, so were the shouts of the people aboard.
“You won’t be,” said Usher and gave Carslake an almighty shove, just as the train rattled past. Carslake’s scream was cut off as he went underneath the wheels. Gray fell to his knees.
“He had information about Tom!”
Usher walked away, leaving Gray in a heap.
Forty
Then
It was visiting time and Duncan Usher’s “guest” was late. This was when family and friends saw the imprisoned for a brief period, the chance once a month to meet loved ones. The bright spot before they went back to another twenty-plus hours a day in a cell with two other men. For Usher it was different. He had a cell to himself, because he was deemed high risk. So Usher didn’t even have the company of his fellow prisoners. That was okay, he wasn’t the sharing type.
Usher sat alone at the table watching every movement in the crowded, noisy room. He’d developed the habit of being observant when previously inside, when he’d been much younger and more naïve. He’d learned fast back then. It paid to be cautious. To check out every motion, every noise, before committing to an action. Because an error could end up with him in the infirmary. The sounds of people echoed around the expansive rectangle – couples talking, children wailing, partners crying. It was a well of misery. Light entered the space via high, barred windows and overhead lights. A woman with a baby in pink seated herself at the next table opposite a man who was mainly muscle and tattoos. The hard face melted as he held hands with his daughter.
Frank McGavin finally appeared, threading his way between the tables. His eyes shifted constantly. Although it had only been a short few months since he’d last seen McGavin, it appeared he’d grown. His bearing was subtly stronger, his presence greater. The other prisoners noticed McGavin as he passed by. Not who he was, but what he was. McGavin pulled out a chair opposite. It had been evident on the phone when they spoke, too. Usher possessed an illicit mobile to allow the pair to continue to conduct business.
The two eyed each other briefly before McGavin stuck out a hand for Usher to shake.
He’s becoming rather like me, thought Usher. Restrained, intelligent, calculating. It came with being the boss.
“You’ve plenty of company in here,” said McGavin.
“I keep my distance. You know how it is.” The pair tried not to meet face-to-face, there were too many ears. But there were some subjects that didn’t do to be discussed over the phone.
“Yes.”
Usher came to it, the big question. “Have you been in touch with Elodie and Lotty?”
“Eva wasn’t keen on me speaking to them, but I’m persistent.” McGavin grinned. Usher didn’t. He was bursting for the information. “Eva insisted she be present, as she’s now their legal guardian.”
“For God’s sake, Frank. What did they say?”
“I’m sorry, Duncan.”
Usher was suddenly alone. The noise of his surroundings disappeared. Frank, the cons and their visitors, gone. Usher was by himself.
Usher felt a touch on his arm, then he was back in the room. “Are you all right?”
Usher couldn’t speak. “Don’t give up,” said McGavin.
“Where’s the point now?”
“Appeal your conviction.”
“On what grounds?”
“Who cares? When you prove your innocence you can look your daughters in the eye, and they’ll know it wasn’t you.” A bell rang to indicate visiting time was over. “I’ll keep the business running.” McGavin stood. “We all appreciate what you’ve done for us.” He offered his hand to Usher. “I’ll get you out, Duncan. I promise. Just keep fighting.”
Usher didn’t believe him.
Forty One
Now
Gray felt wiped out. The treatment had hit hard this time.
“How are you feeling?” asked Hamson. She sat beside him, the obligatory bunch of grapes in her lap, something about them helping his body accept the chemo better.
“Crap.”
“I got you these.” She showed Gray the fruit.
“Thanks.”
Hamson put the grapes on top of the cupboard next to Gray’s head. “It’s been a busy couple of days.”
“For you and me both. Smits and Wyatt have gone.”
“Good. How’s Mike?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since he got out of hospital. He’s taken some time off. We’re finished though, I’m sure of that.” Hamson shifted in her seat. “What happened by the railway?”
“We’ve been over this, Von.” Moments after Carslake died, Hamson, Smits and a wash of uniform had arrived at Dreamland. “I told you, he was confessing to everything, and then jumped in front of the train. My guess, he was overcome with guilt.”
“Nobody else was with you?”
“It was just me and Carslake.”
Hamson eyed Gray for a long moment, but he remained impassive. “I’ve been offered promotion to Chief Inspector.”
“Congratulations, you deserve it.” And Hamson did.
“Leaving an Inspector’s position vacant.”
“Ironic, given Carslake’s offer to the both of us.”
“I’m not Carslake.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Well?”
“I don’t know, Von. I’ll need to think about it. So much has changed.”
“When you’re back, we’ll talk about it, okay?” she patted his shoulder.
“Sure.”
“Somebody else is here to see you.”
“Two visitors in one day? I’m being spoilt.”
Hamson opened the door. In came Duncan Usher.
Forty Two
Now
Hamson had left the pair to it, saying she had work to do.
“I brought grapes, but I see you already have some,” said Usher.
“Seems to be the in thing.”
“How many bunches do you have?”
“Now? Two.”
“Popular as ever, Gray.”
“It’s Sol.”
“You could have stopped me.” Usher meant from killing Carslake.
“I’m not sure I could have. Maybe he deserved it.”
Usher took a grape, popped it into his mouth. “We’re joined at the hip now, you and me.”
“We probably are.”
“I’m seeing them tomorrow, Elodie and Lotty. And my grandson.”
“What’s his name?”
“Lazenby.”
“I’m pleased for you, Duncan.”
“Thanks.”
“When I told you I’d help you find Tom if you got Val’s killers, I meant it. When you’re out of here, I have a friend who’s got information.”
Forty Three
Now
Usher turned the car engine off. He’d picked up Gray from the hospital and driven him to Dartford. Telfer had stayed in Thanet. Gray looked up through the windshield at the high rise which stretched above him. Usher got out, Gray followed suit.
The wind off the Thames buffeted Gray. He could hear the traffic flowing along the M25. A couple of teenagers on BMXs watched them. Usher led Gray into the flats. In an airy lobby they silent
ly awaited the lift.
The man who’d occupied the cell next to Usher lived on the 18th floor. Usher knocked on the door. An old woman opened it wide. Usher stepped inside, trailed by Gray.
“Just give me a moment,” said Usher, leaving Gray in the narrow hallway.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked the old lady. She was standing in the entrance to what Gray assumed was the kitchen, silhouetted. She held a teapot in her hand.
“I’m not sure whether we’ll be staying long enough,” said Gray.
“I’ll put the kettle on anyway.” She disappeared.
Usher returned to Gray and nodded towards the living room. “Come on, you’ve got your audience.”
Jeremy Templeton had a window view of the river from his armchair, a throne of sorts, facing outwards. He appeared to be a similar age to the woman who Gray assumed to be his wife. Templeton was bald and wore glasses. He was wrapped up in a blanket. He didn’t offer Gray a hand to shake. “Sit.” Templeton nodded to a chair which had been pulled over from a nearby dining table. Gray frowned. There was a vague familiarity to the old man.
Mrs Templeton returned with a tray. The teapot was on it, as were three mugs and a plate of digestives. She poured and handed the first mug to Jeremy. He took it, his hands crooked like claws. Gray accepted his. Mrs Templeton left them alone.
“You want to know about your son,” said Jeremy. He shook a cigarette out from a packet and stuck it between his lips.
“Yes.”
Jeremy lit the cigarette and blew out a plume of smoke. “Usually I don’t talk to coppers, but I’m doing a favour for Duncan here. He says he had a deal with you.”
“Yes.”
“And I have a deal with him.” Templeton nodded at Usher who remained standing, quietly at Gray’s shoulder.
Templeton sucked in and expelled another lungful of cigarette smoke. “I used to know Jeff Carslake, years back. He was somebody else I owed. I don’t like debts. Usually they have to be repaid with interest. Carslake wanted somebody lifted. Your son.”
Gray sat forward. “You were at the fair?”