Hail and Farewell (The Lakeland Murders) (20 page)

‘And is there another way out of the yard, other than the way we came in?’

‘This shed has another door at the back actually. It opens on to an old service road. I’ll show you.’

Mann set off and Debbie followed. She unlocked the big sliding doors, and Mann pushed one back. It ran smoothly enough. He glanced out into the lane.

‘So it would be possible to get a lorry out of here without it being shown on CCTV?’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘And these lorries don’t have trackers?’

‘No. They only got out on a few runs each year, usually to steam fairs and the like. Volunteers drive them for us, mostly.’

Mann slid the door closed again.

‘Thanks’ he said.

‘Look, I do understand why you’re here. I do know about my dad. What he’s done, and how he made his money. But he’s completely straight now, and the stories about him are all exaggerated anyway. He’s not a violent man, I promise you.’

Mann nodded, and hoped that Iredale had finished. But he was still up in the tipper’s cab when they got back to it. Mann thought about calling him back down, but he didn’t.

‘There’s one thing I can tell you for a certain fact,’ Debbie went on, ‘and it has nothing to do with my dad. I’m an honest, law-abiding person and I run this business properly. And as to fly-tipping, I’d never let us get involved in that, especially if it meant shitting on our own doorstep. You’re not much of a judge of character if you think I could do that, anyway.’

Mann wanted to believe her, and he did. But that didn’t change anything.

‘It’s not just about fly-tipping, Debbie. In the load that was dumped at Maryport we found a mobile phone that we think was used in the run-up to a burglary that we are connecting to the death of Chris Brown.’

‘The young lad who died at Uppies and Downies on Good Friday? But that was an accident, surely?’

‘We have reason to believe that the death might be suspicious.’

‘What, and my dad is mixed up in it? Talk about giving a dog a bad name. Why would my dad want to kill anyone, least of all a young lad?’

She climbed up on the wheel of the tipper truck and opened the door.

‘Seen enough? It’s time for you both to go, anyway.’

Iredale nodded and closed the log. He’d already photographed it with his phone and noted the mileage on the odometer.

The journey back to the station was a lot quieter than the one out had been.

‘So was that the truck, do you reckon?’ Mann asked eventually.

‘Could have been, certainly. I had a look at the back of the speedo and it would only take about ten seconds to disconnect it. So the log wouldn’t mean a thing, if it was used on the fly-tipping job, like.’

Mann nodded. ‘I’ll tell you one thing, Keith. I’d lay a pound to a pinch of snuff that Debbie didn’t know a thing about it, if it was.’

Iredale was tempted to say something, but he didn’t.

‘What?’ said Mann eventually. ‘You think she’s involved?’

‘No, not really. And we don’t even know it was that tipper that was used, do we?’

‘It’d be a bit of a co-incidence if not though, wouldn’t it?’

‘They do happen.’

‘Aye, they do. But you just think about it, Keith. What would be better for doing the odd dodgy job than those old trucks? You could bring the stuff in legitimately, and sort it out in that shed. Then you’d just drive the unidentifiable waste away in one of the old vehicles and tip it, with no tachographs or anything like that to worry about.’

‘So what do we do now?’

‘Tell the boss what you’ve found out. Let him decide how to play it. But you’re right: I can’t see any way that we can tie that load, and the phone, to Hayton’s haulage firm, let alone that yard or their old tipper truck.’

‘Another dead end then?’

‘It looks like it. But that’s just how it goes sometimes. And, let me tell you, I’ve been here before with Andy Hall. More than once, in fact. And the more frustrating it gets, the more tempted you are to rush at loads of leads at once, the more he calms things right down. You wait and see. He’ll give a little pep talk at the next team meeting, and he’ll say that the only thing we can control completely is our working method, and our own standards. So don’t worry, Keith. We’re not dead yet. Not by a long way. And, just for the record, I don’t think Debbie Hayton is absolutely perfect. Not any more, like,’

‘Really?’

‘Aye. She got a little bit of oil on her hand, when she opened those doors.’

‘Ruined her for you, did it?’

‘No, lad, I didn’t say that.’

Andy Hall and Jane arrived at the cafe in Allonby fifteen minutes before they were due to meet Bill Iredale. It gave them time to order and eat a baked potato each. Hall had his leg up on a spare seat, and they looked out at the grey-blue sea and the blue-grey sky as they ate.

‘How’s your knee?’ asked Jane, taking Hall’s hand. She made a point of asking at least four times a day.

‘Not too bad. Less painful anyway. And I tell you one thing I’ve learned, Jane. Anyone who parks their car in a disabled person’s space should be bloody shot.’

‘That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?’

‘All right then. Life in prison then, but that’s my final offer.’

Jane laughed.

‘Well, go easy on Bill Iredale, won’t you, Mr. Grumpy?’

‘I will. I left the thumb-screws in the office.’

Iredale arrived bang on time, and Jane noticed how like him his son looked. She asked what he fancied and she went to get coffees for all of them. She knew that Hall would just chat about anything but the investigation until she got back, so she didn’t rush. Sure enough when she got back Iredale was telling Hall about sea fishing, and Hall was looking very interested. But to the best of her knowledge he had never cast a line in his life. And when she looked at Iredale, as she sat down, she could see that he wasn’t convinced either.

‘So what can I do for you both?’

‘You understand that this is an informal, off-the-record conversation?’ said Hall.

‘How informal? Does my lad know we’re talking?’

‘He doesn’t, but the bosses do, if that’s what you’re wondering.’

‘No, lad. I haven’t thought about the bloody bosses in years.’

‘Look, I can go round the houses for a while, or get straight to it. Since you were in the job for so long I thought you might prefer the latter option.’

‘Aye, I would.’

‘All right, then. What would you say if I told you that a well-placed confidential informant has suggested that you used to be close to George Hayton?’

‘They mean I was a mole for him, like?’

‘More or less, yes.’

‘And this is relevant to your current investigation how, exactly?’

‘We have reason to believe that the death of Chris Jones may have a gang association, and also that serving officers, and possibly others, have been and possibly still are providing gang leaders with privileged information connected to our current investigation.’

‘I see.’ Iredale took a sip of his coffee and called out to the girl who’d made it. ‘Lovely as always, Ruth.’

‘Me or the coffee?’

‘Both. But you’re lovelier, like.’

Hall smiled politely. ‘So, Bill. Back to my question.’

‘Aye, I know. It’s a tricky one, is that.’ Hall and Jane sat and waited. ‘I suppose it depends what you mean, like. Sometimes he was my informant, sometimes I was his.’

‘How do you mean? Did money ever change hands, in either direction?’

‘No, nowt like that, lad.’

‘But you did reveal privileged information?’

‘Aye, I did’ said Iredale. ‘I’ve always known this would happen, like, and it’s a relief in a way. You charge me, and you can charge him as well. Conspiracy to pervert the course of justice, and that’d just be for starters.’

If Andy Hall was surprised he didn’t look it.

‘Let’s just ease up here, Bill. I’m not arresting you, I’m not even cautioning you. We’re just having a chat at the moment, that’s all.’

‘But I’m giving you George Hayton here. On a bloody plate. Isn’t that what you want?’

‘I understand what you’re saying, Bill, but we both know the implications of taking that line. So why don’t we start by you just telling us what happened, OK? How did it start?’

‘It must have been ’84 or ’85. A young lass who lived near me was glassed in a pub, really vicious it was. We knew who it was, like, right from the off, but we couldn’t find the nasty little bastard. The word was that he was lying low somewhere, abroad maybe, but I never believed it. Anyway, one day I bumped into George, and he asked me how much I wanted to know where the lad was. And I told him that I wanted him really bad. We all did, like, I certainly wasn’t the only one. The lass was scarred for life, and I should know, I still see her in Maryport, every now and again. Anyway, I got on with the job, like, as you do, and thought no more of it. But then, maybe a week later, George was waiting for me when I got home from work. Outside my house, like. He didn’t have any messenger boys see, back in those days. And he offered me a trade. I got the address where our lad was holed up, and all he wanted in return was a vehicle check. Simple as that.’

‘So you did it?’

‘Aye, and we nicked the lad a day or two later. Tell the truth I reckoned I’d got the best of that particular bargain, like. The PNC was for a car from over Carlisle way, and the driver had no record, nothing. But then, about a month or six weeks later, he got pulled out of the Caldew. Dead, obviously.’

‘Shit’ said Hall.

‘Exactly. So that’s a cold case for you to re-open, isn’t it? Anyway, for the rest of my service he had me, didn’t he? I doubt the car was connected to the killing, but he’s a clever bugger, is George Hayton. Because that one PNC check tied me right to it, didn’t it? But he never pushed too hard like, and he only came to me occasionally. Sometimes it’d be months between him asking me for information, even longer maybe.’

‘Can you remember the things he asked you about?’

‘Some of them, aye. And you could link them to his criminal activities, I’m sure of it. Like I said, DCI Hall, nick me and he goes down too. And every bit as hard.’

‘Maybe. Who else did you meet?’

‘Of his people? That Lee Bell, when he came on the scene a few years back, but that was it. I always got the feeling that he didn’t mention me to many of his people. That’s the way people like him work. Come to think of it your job is much the same, I suppose. Mushroom management, I used to call it.’

‘And who did you tell?’

‘No-one.’

‘Not even your wife?’

‘Leave my wife out of this. But no, I didn’t.’

‘Have you got anything to corroborate what you’ve told us? Did you record your conversations, for example?’

Iredale smiled. It was a tired smile.

‘Now that’s why you’ve got the gold-plated handcuffs, isn't it? No, I never thought of it, to tell the truth. I suppose you might find records of the things I found out for him, down the years. You know, my log in details on the PNC, all that.’

‘Yes, that might help, especially if offences were committed after you passed on the information. But I’m not sure that, on its own, would be enough to convict him of anything.’

‘So what are you saying? I’m bloody giving myself up here. I want to do it, so let’s get it over with, like.’

‘I appreciate that, I really do. But you were the victim of blackmail here, and I believe you when you say that no money changed hands.’

‘The courts would take that into account. I’m willing to take my chances.’

‘Perhaps they would. Jane, any thoughts?’

Jane knew Hall more than well enough to know that she wouldn’t be required to just agree with the boss. But, as it happened, she did. And she said as much. It was a minute or two before Hall spoke again.

‘All right. How about this? We log this conversation, and report it only to the ACC Crime. With her approval we do nothing, until and unless we’re not able to make a case against George Hayton and other gang members in relation to the death of Chris Brown. If that’s the case Bill comes forward voluntarily, and offers the CPS a deal. Full disclosure in return for whatever they’re willing to give. How does that sound?’

‘Would the ACC wear it?’ said Iredale. ‘I remember her when she was just another pen-pusher at HQ.’

‘She still is’ said Hall, ‘but she might go for it.’

‘You sound doubtful, Andy’ said Jane.

‘Tell you what’ said Hall. ‘Why don’t the two of you go for a stroll for ten minutes? Let me think this through. I might be able to come up with something better.’

When they came back Jane knew immediately that Hall had indeed thought of something. And he thought that she smelled of fresh air. This time Iredale went to get the coffees. When he came back Hall was ready to lay out his idea.

‘I’ve thought of something that I think I can sell up the line, which would keep you out of jail, and which might help us bring Hayton down, and get justice for Chris Brown too.’

‘Sounds good to me’ said Iredale. ‘Though I can’t see it myself, like.’

‘Let me ask you something, Bill’ said Hall. ‘Did you ever get the feeling that Hayton had another source of information, inside the force, I mean?’

Iredale sat back.

‘Bugger me. You are as clever as they say you are. I hadn’t thought about that in years but aye, I did, towards the end, like. I did have a feeling that they had someone else. Hayton might even have hinted at it, once or twice.’

‘Locally?’

‘Aye, definitely.’

‘And this would be five, six years ago?’

‘About that, aye. Say the last year or two of my service.’

‘All right, so how about this? What if you were to meet up with George Hayton, and offer your services again, but in return for money this time?’

‘But I don’t know anything, do I?’

‘Yes, but that’s not what you say. You tell him that Keith confides in you, tells you everything. And one of the thing he’s told you is that we know Hayton’s got someone on the inside, and that he might have been turned by us. To feed Hayton duff information, or whatever.’