Hail and Farewell (The Lakeland Murders) (29 page)

BOOK: Hail and Farewell (The Lakeland Murders)
4.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘All right. You still think I should have him picked up now?’

‘Yes. Either today or tomorrow morning, early. Let’s debate that in a bit. You’ll also need to get everyone who was in that scrum back in and recorded of course, if only for elimination.’

‘All right. I’ll get that sorted, and I’ll get Matt picked up right away.’

‘You do that. By the time his brief turns up I expect Ian will be back from seeing Debbie Hayton.’

‘You don’t think they’ll have a long, romantic lunch in a little bistro somewhere?’

‘Knowing Ian it’ll be a sarnie and a brew, in a trucker’s cafe somewhere.’

‘Well she should be used to that, I suppose.’

‘George Hayton’s daughter? I doubt it. You know that he has a holiday home in Dubai and another in Antibes, don’t you? All totally legit too, bought and paid for with clean money.’

‘Like you say, Andy. George Hayton is a clever bastard.’

‘Cleverer than most, I’ll grant you. But he’s still as paranoid as anyone in his position has to be. He’s not the only man in his crew who’s a vicious, amoral offender with no loyalty and an eye for the main chance. All his boys are the same, and if one of them sees a chance then you know how this will play out.’

‘Off with king George’s head?’

‘Indeed. So it doesn’t matter how strong his position seems to be to us, from the outside, it looks very different from where he’s standing, I’m bloody certain of it. Everyone who works for him, and especially his immediate lieutenants, they’re as much a real and present danger to him as they are loyal subordinates.’

‘It’s a bit like being the Chief then, Andy.’

Hall laughed. ‘Maybe. But you see what I’m getting at. The thing about pressure is that it’s not just about how much you put on, it’s where it’s applied. That’s what’s important.’

 

The line went quiet. Jane had heard that one before, but she didn’t mind. Because when she was Andy Hall’s boss - and she had absolutely no doubt that day would come - then she’d be able to give him the benefit of her experience too. Whether he liked it or not.

‘So do you want me to circulate this email?’

‘That’s the question, isn’t it? So how about this as an idea? Circulate the transcript, but not the audio file. Tell the team that you’re bringing Matt Hayton in. Then brief Bill Iredale, get him to tell Hayton that we’ve got the audio, and that it’s dynamite.’

‘What’s the advantage in that? They’re going to find out soon enough anyway.’

‘I know. It’s just to build Bill’s credibility, that’s all. So, on second thoughts, maybe don’t pick Matt Hayton up until tomorrow. Give Bill a bit of time to work with.’

‘OK. I’ll get Ian on to that. He seems to have struck up a decent relationship with Bill.’

‘Fine. But one thing, Jane. Don’t call him until after lunch.’

‘What, you seriously think that love can blossom among the torque wrenches?’

‘Quite possibly. I bet that Ian knows every Foden model since before the war. He’ll have been researching them online. I know I would have.’

‘You really are the last of the great romantics, Andy Hall.’

‘I know. It’s just a gift. I’ll call Val Gorham right away, and give her the good news.’

 

 

It was almost five o’clock before Bill Iredale arrived the taxi office. He’d explained to Ian Mann that he was supposed to call first, and then meet somewhere else, but Mann had been insistent.

‘No. It’s a crash meeting, urgent, and you want to see Hayton himself, not his bloody oily rag. He won’t be angry for long, not when you give him your news.’

‘And how have I found out so fast? What’s the story again?’

‘You phoned your lad, to tell him that his mum is a bit better, and he told you that he had good news too. Then he told you about the tape, and you asked if it was Matt Hayton doing the talking, and your lad confirmed it. You got straight in your car and drove round.’

‘OK.’

‘And do me a favour, Bill. Give the boy a call, right now, and chat for a couple of minutes.’

‘Why?’

‘Just in case they check the call history on your mobile.’

‘Is that really necessary, Ian?’

‘Probably not, but we need to be careful.’

‘You mean I need to be careful.’

‘I do, aye. And when Hayton asks say you still don’t know who the mole that Andy’s turned is, but you’re working on it.’

 

It had all seemed simple enough when Mann had run through it, but as he approached the taxi office Bill Iredale felt very far from confident. He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t quite convinced by his story now, and he doubted that George Hayton would be either. So he stopped, told himself not to be so daft, then pushed the door open.

 

And this time he did have to wait. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes went by. Eventually Bell appeared, and he didn’t look happy to see Iredale.

‘I thought I told you to call.’

‘It’s urgent. Important.’

‘It had better be. George is bloody furious.’

‘Well I know…’

‘Save it. Not here. Come up. This had better be bloody worth it.’

 

Iredale felt calm, fatalistic almost, when Hayton pushed open the conference room door.

‘I thought Stringer told you, not here. I don’t want to see you here. Turn up again and I’ll throw you down the bloody stairs myself.’

‘I’ve got something. Something solid.’

‘You better have.’

‘They’ve had the analysis of that tape done. Matt incriminates himself, and they’re nicking him.’

‘When?’

‘Soon. Tonight, tomorrow, I’m not sure. Keith was bloody excited, that’s all I know.’

‘How long ago did you hear this?’

‘An hour, that’s all.’

‘How? Did you see the lad?’

‘No, we spoke on the phone.’

‘Give’ said Hayton. ‘Give Stringer your phone. Now.’

Iredale reached into his jacket pocket and passed his phone to Bell. He looked at it for a few seconds.

‘He called the lad, not long since. What’s this number in Carlisle, Bill? You’ve called it a lot.’

‘It’s the hospital.’

‘Oh, aye. Right.’ he passed back the phone.

‘You’re sure you’re right about this?’ said Hayton. He spoke more slowly, and less loudly now.

‘Aye, certain.’

‘All right, and I’m grateful, Bill. You did right, coming to see me. But what about the other issue?’

‘Sorry, I still don’t know who they think it is. The lad’s not saying owt. Maybe he just doesn’t know.’

 

Ian Mann was standing in the doorway of the closed shop fifty yards down from the taxi office. He’d watched Iredale go in, and now he was just starting to feel nervous. Iredale had been in there for almost half an hour. He’d strolled past quarter of an hour before, and Bill was just sitting there, on a chair with his back to the window. Mann had almost decided to take another stroll past when he saw a familiar figure walking along the street towards him, and on his side of the road. Mann turned his head away, but from the corner of his eye he saw that the man had crossed over, and was approaching the taxi office. He stopped, looked up and down the road, and then pushed the door open. There was no possible doubt, it was Ron Waters. Even out of uniform Mann was quite certain it was him. And it was equally obvious that he hadn’t wanted to be seen. His counter-surveillance technique was so bad that it was actually counter-productive, thought Mann. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d been wearing a fedora and a raincoat with the collar turned up.

 

Mann smiled to himself, then realised that there was a risk that Waters would see Iredale. He wasn’t certain why that was a problem, but he was instinctively sure that it was one. He stepped out of the doorway, and walked decisively towards the taxi office. But he’d barely halved the distance to the door when Waters came out fast, and headed away from him. He hadn’t looked over his shoulder. So Mann turned, strolled slowly back to the doorway, and called Andy Hall.

‘I know who Hayton’s man is. It’s Ron Waters, that arsey uniformed sergeant from Workington nick. I just saw him go into the taxi office, and come out about a thirty seconds later. In a hell of a hurry, like.’

‘Bill Iredale is in there now, is he?’

‘Aye. He’s been in there a while, too. Chummy must have been warned off as soon as he got inside.’

Hall didn’t reply.

‘What are you thinking, Andy? You think I’m wrong?’

‘I doubt that very much. No, I’m just thinking about how to play this. Because if I tell the ACC Crime then I’ll have a job stopping her from starting the formal investigation into Waters right now. I had him second on my list of possibles anyway, as it happens.’

‘Who was top?’

‘Never you mind. What’s that expression you always use?’

‘Keep your neb out?’

‘Exactly. Look, tell Jane tonight, write it up in your notebook, and note that you’ve called me. But I don’t want us to move on this until after we’ve interviewed Hayton.’

‘It’s not like you to go all
al fresco,
Andy.’ Hall laughed. ‘The ACC won’t like it, mate. You know she won’t.’

‘Probably not, and I’m going to have to tell her, and soon. Just not tonight, that’s all.’

‘All right.’ Mann saw the taxi office door open, and Iredale walk out. ‘Bill’s out. He’s clear.’

‘Right. Just hang on for a bit, and make sure he’s not being followed.’

Mann laughed.

‘You’re really enjoying all this, aren’t you? Pulling the strings from the comfort of your bloody sofa.’

‘It’s interesting, certainly. Let’s face it, Ian, we spend most of our working lives dealing with disorganised crime, usually committed by the feckless against the helpless. It’s almost enjoyable to be going up against someone who thinks at least one move ahead, most of the time at least.’

‘Aye, Andy, but who’s actually doing the thinking?’

‘It’s a good question, and I do see what you mean. It’s as if there are two competing factions, isn’t it? One’s the good old-fashioned bully boy, who ordered the bloody stupid showdown at Uppies and Downies that got this whole investigation started, and the other is much more subtle, and aware of how we’re likely to respond to their actions. And that is clever. Anyway, did Iredale have company when he left?’

‘No. He’s not being followed. You want me to debrief him?’

‘Yes, this evening if you can. Do it on the phone though, Ian. Just in case.’

Tuesday, May 6th

 

 

DS Mann always enjoyed a dawn raid. It reminded him of the old days. The briefing was always the best bit too. The jokes, then the serious questions, finally the quiet before the off. Ideally he’d have liked to have been in the van with the lads, but he and Jane drove to the house. When he knocked Matt Hayton answered the door almost immediately, and he was already fully dressed.

‘How come you’re up so early?’ he said, as he walked Hayton to the car. He already knew why, but he was interested to hear what Hayton had to say.

‘Couldn’t sleep, like.’

‘You’ll be needing a lawyer today, Matt.’

‘Aye. And I’m way ahead of you. He’ll be at the nick by eight. Can we stop somewhere for breakfast on the way though? We’ve got time.’

‘Don’t play silly buggers. You’ll be processed, and then we’ll get you a bacon buttie or something.’

‘What if I’m a vegetarian, like?’

‘I’ll eat your bacon. Anyway, are you?’

‘What?’

‘A vegetarian?’

‘No, course not. What fun would that be?’

 

It was just after nine when Jane Francis asked Mann to turn on the recorder, and the interview commenced. She asked Matt Hayton if he had attacked Chris Brown, thinking that he was Tony Gambles, during the Good Friday game, and Hayton said that he hadn’t.

‘I’m going to play you an extract from an audio file, item 957/L, made during the good Friday game. Here’s a copy of the transcript, with the sections I’m going to play you highlighted in yellow. Is that all clear?’

‘Aye.’

 

Jane played the tape, and Hayton looked at the lawyer and nodded briefly. The lawyer nodded back.

‘Do you recognise the voice identified as voice nine?’

‘Aye, that’s me.’

Jane didn’t react, and nor did Mann. It was as if he’d merely confirmed his name, or his phone number, and not that he’d killed a young lad.

‘You’re sure?’

‘Certain.’

‘So you’d be willing to have us make a recording for comparison purposes?’

‘Aye. Right now, if you want.’

‘And how about any of the other voices? Can you identify them?’

‘No.’

‘Would you like me to play the tape again?’

‘You’re all right, love.’

‘Well, if you’re sure. So what did you mean when you said: ‘Aye, the fucker’s down. It’s him’? Did you deliberately assault Chris Brown during the Uppies and Downies match on Good Friday night, at about 10.58pm’

Matt Hayton looked at his lawyer, who nodded again.

‘Aye. But it were a total accident, like. I didn’t mean to kill no-one, honest. It was just supposed to be a bit of a beating.’

‘Was Chris Brown the intended target?’

Hayton glanced at his lawyer.

‘No comment.’

‘Come on, Matt. You’ve been honest with us so far, so why go all ‘no comment’ on us now?’

‘No comment.’

‘Is it because your learned friend has told you not to admit to anything that might involve a conspiracy? Is that it?’

‘No comment.’

‘Well it won’t get you very far I’m afraid, Matt. You see we’ll find out who those other voices are, and they’ll be charged with conspiracy to commit GBH, maybe manslaughter. And if we find that they’re all known associates of George Hayton as well, and we both know that we will, then he’s going to be appearing on the charge sheet too. There’s really nothing you can do to stop it. You admitting to this doesn’t make it go away for your bosses, no matter what you’ve been told.’

‘No comment.’

 

Jane sat back, and glanced at Ian Mann.

‘Look, Matt’ he said. ‘This is all on tape, so you know I’m not trying to bullshit you here, right?’

Hayton made eye contact, firmly enough, but he didn’t reply. So Mann went on.

Other books

Vow of Obedience by Veronica Black
Ellis Island by Kate Kerrigan
King by R.J. Larson
Origins (A Black Novel, #1) by Jessa L. Gilbert
Strangers on a Train by Carolyn Keene
Life Behind Bars by Linda Tweedie, Linda Tweedie