Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders) (33 page)

BOOK: Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)
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‘And how did you come by that information?’

‘I saw it in a file in Superintendent Robinson’s office.’

‘And did you have any help, either from inside or outside the station?’

‘No, I was on my own.’

‘Did Superintendent Robinson help you?’ asked Val Gorham.

‘No. No, I just told you. I didn’t have any help.’

‘Did you ask to him to open the safe? To leave the room?’

‘No, he knew absolutely nothing about it.’

‘Who did you tell?’ asked Hall, glancing across at Gorham, who nodded slightly.

‘I’d rather not say.’

‘That’s up to you’ said Hall, ‘but I’m sure that your solicitor has explained that the courts will take a very different view of your case, depending on whether you co-operate with us fully or not.’

‘I have explained the position’ said the solicitor. ‘But, since I understand that any charge will be brought south of the border, and because my client is facing potentially serious charges I have suggested that she offer no comment at this stage, in any matter relating to third party involvement in the passing on of any information concerning the identity of Mr. Williams.’

‘I understand’ said Hall. ‘So let’s just confirm what happened. You have been working for Safe Security Specialists as an accountant.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And you applied to Cumbria Constabulary to become a Special Constable with the explicit intention of becoming a mole, by which I mean your intention was to gain unlawful access to information concerning the whereabouts and new identity of Neil Williams?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘I was asked to, by the person who I’ve been advised not to name at this time.’

‘Asked to? Why didn’t you just say no?’

‘I couldn’t. I was threatened.’

‘You feared for your safety?’

‘That’s right.’

‘And were explicit threats made?’

‘Yes.’

‘So why didn’t you come to the Police?’

‘I was frightened.’

‘Were any other inducements made, or offered?’

‘No.’

‘So you acted as you did purely out of fear for your own safety?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘I’m sorry Alison, but that’s not very convincing. All you had to do was to inform Superintendent Robinson, or any officer come to that, and you would have been safe. You could have done it as soon as you reached Kendal Police station. So why didn’t you?’

‘I’ve already told you, I’d been threatened. And I didn’t believe that I’d get proper protection later if I did.’

‘Why not?’

‘Everyone knows that the Police don’t protect witnesses properly. That’s what powerful criminals rely on, isn’t it?’

‘You think it’s a matter of economics, of accountancy if you like. Is that it?’

‘In a way, yes.’

‘So what did you do when you found out Williams’ new identity?’

‘I phoned my contact, using a phone I’d been provided with.’

‘And when was this?’

‘A few days before Williams was killed.’

‘Do you remember exactly which day it was?’

‘The Thursday or Friday before I think.’

‘Do you believe that the information that you provided resulted in Williams’ death?’

For the first time there was a pause before Alison answered. ‘Don’t you?’

‘What I think isn’t relevant here, Alison. What do you think?’

‘Yes’ she said quietly. ‘He was killed because of the information that I provided.’

‘Did your contact ever mention another person who was providing information?’

‘No. Was there? That would be fantastic. I’d feel so much better.’

Hall was watching her reaction closely, and hoped that Gorham was too. He was certain that Alison didn’t have an accomplice.

‘I’m afraid not, Alison. We’re confident that it was you who sentenced Neil Williams to death. How does that make you feel?’

‘Terrible. I think about it all the time. But they made me do it.’

‘So you’re saying that you’re a victim too?’

Again Alison hesitated. ‘I should have said something, you’re right. But I was frightened. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ve never been in any trouble in my life. I’m not a criminal, am I?’

 

And that, thought Hall, was Alison’s future defence in a nutshell. Did he believe her? Absolutely not. But would a jury? Quite possibly. Because unless Murphy talked, which wouldn’t happen even if hell froze over, or evidence of a some financial inducement was found, a dozen ordinary folks might well buy her story. Give her six months on remand and Alison would probably be believing it herself.

‘You’ve been cautioned, and we’ll have discussions with the CPS about what charges to bring after those discussions. Is there anything else that you’d like to tell me at this stage?’

‘Can I ask something?’

‘Sure.’

‘Will I be remanded in custody?’

‘Well that depends on what you’re charged with. But if it’s conspiracy to murder then I’d expect you would be.’

‘And would I get any protection?’

‘That’s not really a matter for me, but under circumstances like these some prisoners feel safer in solitary confinement, for their own protection.’

‘Solitary.’

 

Hall had seen that look before, but not often. He didn’t enjoy it when he did. But it wasn’t every day that a first-time offender was arrested for a serious offence. Usually charging offences, even serious ones, was a fairly familiar transaction to both sides. It felt almost routine. But not this time. It was all new to Alison, and it was so obviously terrifying.

‘Look, Alison, I’m going to terminate this interview in a moment, unless Superintendent Gorham has anything to add.’ She shook her head. ‘In that case, Alison, we’ll take you back down to Kendal now, and then you’ll be able to chat with your solicitor, and then we’ll talk again. But don’t get your hopes up about the charges that you’re likely to face. You’ve admitted to being a prime mover in a man’s death, and that is the gravest of matters, I’m afraid.’

Wednesday, 29th May

 

 

Ian Mann had known Alan Frostick since primary school. As he sat in the pub waiting for him, a glass of mineral water in front of him, he remembered Frostick as a child, chasing the other kids round the playground, then helping himself to their sweets. Mann was a year or two younger, and at first he complied with Frostick’s demands. And then his mum died.

 

It was only a day or two after the funeral that he and his brothers went back to school, and only another day after that before Frostick came looking for his usual tribute. Ian Mann had reached into his pocket to hand over his chocolate, which his mum must have bought just before she died, when something made him stop.

‘No’ he said.

‘No what? Your brothers aren’t here, Mann, they’re already back inside. So give me your treat. You must have one, or is your dad drinking your pocket money away as well now?’

 

As he sat there Ian Mann could still feel how it had felt to hit Frostick, and how it had felt to take a few back. When the teacher pulled them apart it was clear that Frostick, despite being several inches taller, had come off much worse, and the other kids knew it too. From then on Alan Frostick had left Ian Mann alone, and for a while in his early teens Mann had been as out of control as Frostick. But Mann had joined the army, then the Police, while Frostick had spent the last twenty odd years in pubs, on a battered brown sofa in his flat, and driving around town in an increasingly expensive series of cars.

 

When he’d looked at Frostick’s file that morning Mann was surprised to see that he had finally started to move up in the criminal world. He’d been mentioned a couple of times in surveillance reports, and the intelligence team had him on their long-list, making him one of the fifty or so top targets in the county. Mann hadn’t thought he had it in him. But he’d spoken to the coppers on the ground, something that he wished Andy Hall would do occasionally, and a pretty clear picture emerged. Frostick had filled a vacuum in terms of the local drugs business, and was just beginning to move completely away from street-level dealing himself. And word was he’d given a pusher who’d stepped out of line a bad beating only a week or two before.

 

Mann watched, amused, as one of Frostick’s boys, a fat kid called Bennett who Mann had first pinched for stealing a skateboard years before, walked in to the pub and had a look round. A minute later Frostick came in, another one of his lads just behind him.

‘Can I buy you a drink, Ian?’ he said when he came over.

‘No, let me.’

‘What have I done to deserve it?’

‘I hear that you had a word with Terry Walker.’

‘Oh that. Aye, I heard that someone gave him a bit of a doing.’

Mann got up. ‘What’s it to be? And don’t worry, this is just a friendly chat, like.’

‘I’ll have what you’re having.’

‘You know its water?’

‘Aye. But I’m working.’

‘Does the Social know?’

Frostick smiled.

‘I haven’t signed on in months, mate.’

 

Mann walked to the bar, bought a mineral water for Frostick and two soft drinks for his lads.

‘I wasn’t sure if they were old enough’ he said, and Frostick laughed.

‘So what can I do for you then, Sergeant?’

‘Nothing. Like I said, just a chat. First of all, about Terry Walker and his family.’

‘What about them?’

‘Leave him alone, all right? He’s had his lesson and he virtually wrote his own charge sheet when we nicked him. He’ll be away for a year or two now.’

‘Aye, we heard he was absolutely shitting himself.’

‘He was, but that’s it, OK? You’ve made your point. And if he so much as cuts himself shaving between now and when he comes to trial it’ll be you we come to see first. Of course, if he lives in fear of what might happen but never does, well that’s not something we can do anyone for, is it?’

‘You mean like what he did to Eleanor?’ Frostick looked thoughtful. ‘Leave it with me. And what would I get in return?’

‘A heads-up, the only one you’re ever going to get from me. You’ve been coming to the notice of my bosses lately, Alan, especially the ones who look after the drugs job. They think you’ve gone from being a tiny little minnow to being a slightly larger minnow.’

Mann remembered that Frostick’s fuse had always been short.

‘Fuck off, Sergeant Mann. You’ve got nothing on me, or you’d have nicked me.’

‘That’s not entirely true, but you’re right, I’ve not got enough to nick you today. But I wanted you to know that I’ve been given you as a kind of special project. Just thought I’d let you know.’

‘And what do you expect me to do? Turn over a new fucking leaf or something? Take up cake making?’

‘That’s up to you, Alan. Every day brings a new decision, a new direction. If you want it, like.’

‘Not for me it doesn’t. And if it wasn’t me you were after it would just be someone else. Until certain substances are legalised there’ll always be people like me. I’m a service industry, like satellite TV and take-aways. Folk just couldn’t do without us.’

‘Have it your own way, but you mark my words. Within six months you’ll be inside for a proper stretch, and someone else will be running your little tiny empire. Maybe even one of your lads here. How’s the cola, son? Sweet enough for you is it?’

 

Frostick got up quickly, and Mann could see that his fists were clenched. He stayed where he was, but he knew exactly what he’d do if Frostick tried anything.

‘You don’t scare me, Ian. You’re still just a blubbering kid who’s lost his mum. All that SAS shit is bollocks. And you think your gang’s stronger than mine, now you’re a copper, but it’s not. You’re weak. There aren’t enough of you any more, and your mates have got no real will to win. We see them every day, and we’re winning. You just mark my words. We’re winning.’

 

 

 

Val Gorham seemed to be summoning Andy Hall every hour, on the hour. She’d also insisted on sitting in on every meeting with the DPP, and then having a post-meeting-meeting as well. As he sat there waiting for Gorham to look up from the latest DPP charging proposal Hall noticed how compressed her blonde bun of hair was. He wondered how she did it.

‘So they’re saying that Alison is going guilty on conspiracy, and giving up Pat Murphy, in return for a reduced sentence.’

‘Yes. She’ll draw about eight years, but she’ll do less than four, and half of that in an open prison. Afterwards she will get a modest package. Apparently she’s intimated that she wants to go to Italy afterwards.’

‘Out of the frying pan into the fire I’d have thought.’

‘I’m not sure that organised crime has its own version of Europol, but I know what you mean. She’d be easy to find I’d have thought, but I suppose they’d need to know where to look.’

BOOK: Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)
2.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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