Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders) (31 page)

BOOK: Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)
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‘So you think she’s pining for you?’ Jane smiled. ‘Is that it, Mr. lover-lover?’

‘She’s an intelligent woman. It’s only natural.’

Jane whacked him on the arm with her notepad.

‘Someone’s getting their self-confidence back.’

‘A reluctant babe magnet, that’s me.’

 

Jane was still laughing, to Hall’s slight annoyance, when Superintendent Robinson walked in to the room. He inclined his head towards Hall’s office, and Hall followed him in.

‘I’ll tell the other Inspectors as soon as I can, Andy, so I’d like you to treat this as confidential for a day or so, but I’m taking a redundancy package. The Chief has been very generous, and it will save a lot of embarrassment for everyone.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, sir.’

‘Are you, Andy? I’ve always thought that you’re probably the kind of person who’s polite at the expense of honesty, and I suppose that’s my proof. Anyway, it’s simple enough. The report says that Alison Thornton’s appointment as a Special happened in breach of due process, and that it was entirely my fault.’

‘But perhaps she would have got in anyway, via the usual process. It’s unfair to blame you for what happened afterwards.’

‘That’s naïve, Andy, and you know it. Anyway, when you throw in the fact that we’re almost certain that she accessed the file when I left my safe open then you can see that I was done for anyway. Val Gorham didn’t even have to undermine me. I was already dead in the water.’

‘Are you sorry to be going?’

‘I’d hoped for one more promotion, a bit of a bump to the old pension, you know. But no, I’ll not be sorry. All these cuts have made it a harder place to be a manager, all those tough decisions to make, you see. They crowd in on you after a while.’

‘Any idea who we’ll get in your place?’

Robinson smiled. ‘Nothing is official as yet, but I think I can say with total confidence that Val Gorham will be the next station commander in Kendal.’

‘I see. Thanks for letting me know, sir.’

‘Not a bit of it. I won’t ask what you think of that appointment, Andy, because as of a few days time it won’t be any of my business anyway. And I’m sure you wouldn’t offer an opinion anyway.’

‘Would anyone listen if I did, sir?’

Robinson looked at him levelly. ‘Can I ask you something, off the record? Why haven’t you gone for promotion? At best you’re going to end your career as a DCI, and you’ve got the intelligence and ability to have gone all the way to the very top, in a big force too. So why didn’t you? Was it all the politics? Goodness knows I’ve never enjoyed all that.’

Hall’s face remained as impassive as ever.

‘Partly personal reasons, sir, because my kids love it here. But if I’m honest my reasons were entirely selfish. I just like being a detective. When I make a good guess, or put evidence together in a way that takes us somewhere, then I get pleasure from that, and I want that feeling again. It’s nothing to do with doing good, or even fulfilling a useful social function, it’s a purely personal pleasure. And promotion much beyond my current rank would mean that I’d get to feel that sensation less and less often. That’s why anyway.’

Robinson thought about it for a moment.

‘I envy you that, I must say. I can’t remember the last time I really enjoyed a day at work.’ He paused. ‘But come on, a clever man like you could have done all sorts of other things with his life. So you must feel that you’re doing something useful.’

Hall nodded. ‘Up to a point. But, speaking for myself, I don’t think I really have that selflessness gene. I’d do anything for my family, for my children anyway, but that’s not quite the same thing, that’s just biology. And we’re all driven by that, no matter what constructs we erect to give our lives meaning.’

‘Was that a dig, Andy? It doesn’t matter if it was, and I suppose in your eyes I’m already just a former colleague who you’ll say ‘hello’ to in the street, so what I believe doesn’t matter. But it gives me comfort.’

‘Each to their own, sir.’

Robinson nodded. ‘But let me give you one piece of advice before I go, Andy. Be very careful when Val Gorham gets here. Word is she has a couple of followers at HQ who she’s looking to get in here, including a DI from out west. I’d be very careful if I were you.’

‘About something specific, sir?’

‘Yes, your relationship with DC Francis. That could be seen as inappropriate. Have you thought about moving her?’

‘If Jane wants to move I won’t stand in her way, sir, but she hasn’t expressed any desire to move role or station. And I would never seek to move her just because we’re involved in a relationship.’

‘But what if it were to end?’

‘It’s barely begun so far.’

Robinson got up. ‘And that’s why you’ll end your days as a DI, Andy. You just don’t plan ahead, cover the angles. Anyway, good luck to you.’

Robinson made no move to get up.

‘Was there something else? Would you like an update on the Alison Thornton investigation?’

‘If you feel that you can brief me.’

‘Of course I can. The trail has gone cold. We’re almost certain that she didn’t have any outside help, so she did a pretty good job. We now know that she had false plates made in Penrith, and that’s how she got to Scotland without being spotted on ANPR. And of course by the time we did find the car she was long gone. It was neat actually.’

‘So where is she now?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine. I very much doubt that she’s thrown in her lot with Cafferty’s crew, because she must know that they’d kill her without a second thought. So my guess is that she’s trying to fly solo.’

‘What a mess. And even if we manage to catch her you don’t think we’ll be able to charge Cafferty subsequently?’

‘Not a prayer, sir. The best we could hope for is that Murphy would walk the plank for his boss, because you can bet your pension that he won’t say a word. Not ever. Conspiracy to murder and fifteen years wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference to Murphy. He’d just do the time. Every day of it if he had to.’

‘Old school loyalty, eh?’

‘An under-rated virtue. But no, I think its more fear of getting a knife in the back in prison that would keep Murphy quiet. He’d come out of prison a pensioner, but he’d be alive and wealthy with it.’

‘More than I can say for myself’ said Robinson gloomily.

‘Come on now, sir. Our pension is index linked, isn’t it? So a few more years inflation and you’ll be laughing.’

 

 

 

PCs Jack Knowles and Erica Miles had only just started the back-shift, and they’d parked their marked Police Volvo at Plumgarths roundabout while they ate their chips and read their emails. They were both in a good mood, because they were off for the next few days, and they’d heard that the Super was getting the push. It had all the makings of an excellent shift.

‘Shall we take a drive through to Windermere?’ said Jack, after they’d been there for half an hour.

‘Why not? I can think of worse ways to spend an evening than a drive through the Lakes.’

 

Just before Ings Erica noticed a flat-bed lorry with a big white power boat on it going the other way.

‘Have it’ said Erica, flicking on the blue lights and the video. Jack checked his mirrors and did a u-turn. He hit the throttle and felt the big car, heavily laden as it was, start to accelerate hard.

 

They’d caught up with the lorry in under a mile and Jack positioned the car so that the lorry driver couldn’t miss him in his mirrors. Erica gave the siren a blast, but the lorry didn’t pull over.

‘This is a live one’ said Erica, reaching for the radio.

Jack didn’t try to overtake, but stayed well back, only pulling out occasionally. ‘This must be our lucky night’ he said. ‘When’s the last time you stopped a truck on spec and it had nicked gear on board?’

‘We haven’t stopped it yet, Jack.’

‘They’re fucked though, aren’t they? If they’ve got any sense they’ll stop and bail out before we get to a lit section. Are you ready for a run?’

‘If I have to. I wish we hadn’t had those chips now though.’

 

Whoever was in the lorry had obviously reached the same conclusion as Jack, because the lorry accelerated, indicated right, turned off its light, then braked hard and pulled in on the left. Erica called in and had her seatbelt off before Jack had stopped the car.

‘I’ll take the driver. Watch yourself, lass’ said Jack, as he swung his door open.

Twenty minutes later it was all over. The driver had twisted his ankle when he jumped out of the cab, and Jack had him cuffed within a few yards of the front of the lorry. Erica wasn’t so lucky, but the two passengers were spotted by the helicopter when it arrived on scene twenty minutes later.

 

At just before midnight Jack and Erica drove back towards town, having earned their break. They had no intention of stopping anyone, and were just chatting about what they’d both be doing on their days off. But that was before they saw the old Vectra driving into town ahead of them. It was barely doing thirty in a forty limit, and when the driver saw them in his mirrors he slowed down even more.

‘I don’t bloody believe it. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel tonight’ said Erica.

‘It’ll be Lord Lucan driving’ said Jack.

‘With Shergar in the passenger seat.’

Erica flicked on the lights and the car stopped immediately. Jack was a bit disappointed. But when Erica opened the driver’s door she laughed out loud, and shouted back to Jack.

‘You won’t believe who we’ve got here, Jack. Better than Lord Lucan any day of the bloody week.’

Saturday, 25th May

 

 

PC Nobby Styles couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing from Erica Miles.

‘So he was pissed as a fart, the car was uninsured, and he had five hundred quid’s worth of Class A on him as well, which he freely admits he intended to supply?’

‘That’s about it, Nobby. If he says it with the Duty Solicitor in the room in the room then he’s yours. I’d have thought he’ll draw two years at least.’

‘I don’t fucking believe it. Don’t get me wrong, Erica, I couldn’t be happier. But Terry’s not a dealer, he’s not even a user. And to get nicked for drunk driving as well. That’s stupid, even by his standards, and let’s face it, his standards are not high.’

‘I know. It’s like he wanted us to stop him. Short of lobbing empty beer bottles at us or binning the car in a hedge he couldn’t have made it any more obvious that he was pissed up. But we thought you’d want to be the one to charge him, what with everything that’s happened.’

 

 

‘All right, Nobby?’ said Terry Walker cheerfully, when Nobby walked into the interview room with Erica Miles and Ian Mann.

‘How’s the head?’

‘Not too bad. I hear I was well over the limit.’

‘Yes, you were.’

‘And I had that gear as well, didn’t I?’

‘Terry, give us a chance. Just let me start the tape and we’ll get this done.’

‘Will you oppose bail?’

‘That’s not up to me Terry, you know that. Let’s get this all safely recorded and we can take it from there. All right?’

 

The duty solicitor was smiling. The money was terrible, and the hours were worse, but it wasn’t every day that he got paid for doing absolutely bugger all. So he sat back and thought about what he’d have to do when he got in to the office, and had a tentative sip at the coffee that Erica had made for him. To his surprise it wasn’t bad at all.

 

‘So, Terry, you understand why you’ve been arrested?’

‘Aye, drink driving, and possession with intent to supply.’

‘That’s right. Shall we talk about the drink driving first? Whose car is it?’

‘A mate’s. He didn’t know I had it.’

‘So you were driving without the owner’s consent?’

‘That’s right, Nobby. I just picked his keys up off the bar and went for a drive.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘Why? I don’t know. I was pissed, wasn’t I?’

‘And have you got any insurance?’

‘Of course not, and let me put it on record that I hate those ads on TV. The dog, that bloke singing, all of them.’

‘I’ll pass that on for you. I bet they take the views of pissed up, uninsured motorists very seriously. So let’s talk about that gear, three wraps wasn’t it?’

‘That’s right. Decent stuff too. I don’t sell rubbish.’

‘So you’re saying it wasn’t for personal consumption then, Terry?’

‘That’s right, Nobby. You know me, I don’t do drugs. No, I was planning to sell that gear down on the estate.’

‘So your plan was to supply?’

‘You got it.’ Terry looked pleased with himself.

‘And where did the drugs come from?’

‘You know better than that, Nobby. I’m no grass.’

‘Was it Alan Frostick?’

BOOK: Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)
8.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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