The Blue Notes (5 page)

Copeland had Martin Jefferies’ record in front of him, and skimmed it quickly, but Pepper barely even glanced at it. She’d known Jefferies since she was a kid, and she’d even nicked him once or twice herself. He was a low level nuisance con, short on both brains and bravery, so she was half surprised that he’d hit her. Why had he even bothered?

‘You must have recognised me, Martin’ she said, when the tape was running. ‘And you know I’m a plain-clothed cop, don’t you? So you’re looking at assaulting a police officer this time. And that’ll get you a nice day out in the Crown Court, and a couple of years away after.’

‘Bollocks, love. I didn’t recognise you. And you didn’t say you were the filth, did you?’

‘You didn’t give me much chance, Martin. You were all over me like a cheap suit, mate. What was that all about, anyway? What were you worried about? You didn’t even know why we were there, did you?’

Jefferies smiled slyly. It wasn’t an attractive look, but then he wasn’t an attractive man. His eyes had a dead quality that had always troubled Pepper slightly.

‘Maybe I know more than you think, Pepper, love.’

‘Like what, Martin? No offence, mate, but if you knew anything worth knowing you wouldn’t have been either on the social or inside for pretty much every day of the last fifteen years.’

‘Well I do, all right. Anyway, I’m saying nowt. Now, you just get me charged with affray, and we can all get off home. We all know that you’d never have a sniff at making assaulting a copper stick, like. They’d laugh you out of court. But I will tell you one thing. That lad who belted me, he’d better watch himself, like.’

Pepper leant forward. Copeland knew from experience that this was almost always a bad thing, especially when the tape as running and the camera was on and all.

‘You what, Martin? You’re telling me that you’re going to commit another violent offence, is that it? So you’re helping me cut out the middle man, like. So I can just nick you now without you having to actually do anything at all, is that it?’

‘Aye, well. I’m saying nowt. That lad wants to look out, that’s all. I’ve got friends now, Pepper, powerful friends.’

‘No, Martin, your mates aren’t strong enough to win a bloody teddy bear on the high striker at the fair. It’s what a diet of pizza and pop does, I’m afraid. So you’re the one who needs to look out. Because if anything happens to anyone who was in that pub tonight, anyone at all, then we’ll know who to look for. Which means weI’ll coming looking for you, Martin. And you know what that means, don’t you?’

‘Aye, a fit up.’

‘No, it means that I won’t believe a single word of your bullshit. I’ve known you since we were teenagers, mate, and you’re a total waste of space now, just like you were then. Everyone knows you did that sub-post office, back in the day, but you can’t rest on your laurels for the rest of your life, mate. Waving your mum’s carving knife in the face of a sixty year old woman and getting away with a grand in small change doesn’t make you a criminal mastermind, it really doesn’t. So let’s get you charged, and you forget all this big talk, all right? Because those bruises on your face tell a very different story about how handy you are with your fists, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Fuck off, Pepper. Say what you like about me, but your boy wouldn’t stand much of a chance against Dai Young, would he? Dai’d cut his fucking heart out, I bet.’

Copeland didn’t think that Pepper could get any further forward in her chair, but it seemed that he was wrong.

‘And what would Dai’s interest in all this be, Martin? Are those other lads on his payroll, and you too? Is that what you’re saying to me now? Because then I would be impressed, honest. You really would have gone up in the world, Martin, I’ll give you that.’

‘Aye, well some people do move on, Pepper love. You might find that hard to believe, like, but they do.’

Friday, April 10th

Interview room 5, Carlisle Police HQ.

When Henry Armstrong returned to the office from chatting with Josie Jackson in the CCTV room he noticed that Pepper was in her office with a DI from the Drugs Squad. They both looked pretty serious. Usually there was the sound of laughter whenever Matt Taylor was with her, and sometimes it was even Pepper’s, but not today. So when Taylor left, and Pepper came out of her office only a minute later and walked past the empty desks and straight towards him, Armstrong began to wonder what he’d done wrong.

‘Come on, Henry. We’ve got an interview to conduct.’

‘Who, Pepper?’

‘Andy Robinson, the twat. So do me a favour, and make sure that you grab me if I go for his throat when the bastard starts bullshitting us, which he’s bound to do.’

‘One of those, is he?’

‘Oh, you’ve not had the pleasure? Well, you’re in for a treat. At the last count the score was no convictions to us, and five grand in compensation to him. Wrongful arrest, abuse of process, some shit or other. A DS down in Penrith was suspended for the better part of a year while they sorted it all out.’

‘A cocky bastard?’

‘Oh, aye, he’s chock full of it, like. He’s just a pusher really, no better than the other parasites. So don’t be fooled by the bastard. All he’s really got is a posh southern accent, and a dad with a few quid. But he’s still putting our school kids’ lives at risk, peddling that shit, so he’s total scum as far as I’m concerned.’

‘What have we got him in for? Drugs, I take it?’

‘Sort of, aye. Drugs raided his place last night, on a rock-solid tip, and they came up with sod all. Matt Taylor says Drugs know he’s at it, absolutely no question, but there was no gear, no proceeds, no pay-as-you-go mobiles, absolutely sod all. And, believe you me, that little shit isn’t clever enough to keep everything squared-away like that.’

‘He was tipped off then?’

‘Has to be, doesn’t it? Matt says he can’t face the bastard, so he’s left him to us. Says that since the little shit is local, he’s our problem now.’

‘Charming. Any chance of charges then?’ Henry regretted the question as soon as it was asked, but at least he got to hear Pepper’s laugh.

Robinson was younger than Henry expected, about his own age, but much more smartly dressed. And, unusually for anyone in the drugs game, he gave absolutely no indication of being a user himself. He looked, Henry thought, like a particularly successful personal trainer. Meanwhile, the solicitor sitting alongside him looked as if he enjoyed the services of a personal shopper. The last time that Pepper had seen any man so well dressed he’d been standing stock-still in a shop window. She don’t know the brief, but he gave her his card. It was embossed, which Pepper was pretty certain was a first for Carlisle nick.

‘Has my client been arrested?’

‘No, he hasn’t. We just wanted to ask him a few questions, that’s all.’

‘For why, may I ask?’

‘Your client is well-known in this station, respected almost, as one of the most knowledgeable in the division. When it comes to the drugs job, anyway.’

The lawyer was about to respond, but Robinson held up his hand.

‘Well, I know more about most things than you lot do, anyway. Though not about any drugs, obviously’, he added quickly, smiling across at his lawyer. ‘Why would I know anything about them? I don’t even drink coffee. It’s bad for you, see. Makes people aggressive.’ He glanced at Pepper’s half empty mug, and smiled up at her.

She did not smile back. ‘So what else do you know, Mr. Robinson? Not much, I reckon. As far as I can see you left that expensive school your dad sent you to under a cloud. A cloud of dope smoke was it?’

‘Bollocks. I left, I wasn’t expelled.’

‘And what about the last few years? What have you been doing with yourself, exactly?’

‘I don’t see how this is relevant’, said the lawyer, quickly.

‘No’, said Pepper cheerfully, ‘you’re probably right. Because it’s obvious, really. There are only two credible options. Either Mr. Anderson has been sponging off daddy, or else he’s been involved in the drugs job. Or maybe it’s been a bit of both.’

‘I don’t depend on my dad. That’s crap, that is. I can take care of myself.’

‘That’s not the way we hear it. We hear that your dad bought that gangster car of yours. You do know that the street dealers all laugh at you, don’t you? Piss themselves, they do, whenever you cruise by, listening to that Puff Dogg, or whatever he’s called. They all prefer to earn their cash, and I admire that, in a way. Anyway, I really don’t think you know much that matters, Mr. Anderson, beyond your old man’s credit card number, that is.’

Anderson’s face was flushed now. ‘Well, I know all about you. Everyone on the street does. Christ, you lot like to pretend that you know all about us, that you’ve still got the upper hand, but you don’t know shit.’

‘I’m impressed. So go on, tell me. How do you know so much about us?’

‘Because it’s my business, because we’ve got…’

‘That’s enough, DS Wilson’ said the solicitor, loudly, putting his hand on Robinson’s arm. ‘All you’ve attempted to do today is to goad and belittle my client. And that ends now, I’m afraid. Not another word, if you please, Mr. Anderson.’

‘That’s what daddy would want, is it? Go on, be your own man, for once.’ Pepper tried, as hard as she always did, but Anderson didn’t say another word.

‘I see what you mean’, said Henry, when the two officers had the interview room to themselves. ‘But he’s full of shit, that lad, surely? Like you say, he’s just playing at it, and not very well, either.’

‘Aye, you’re right. Normally I’d just say it was his usual bullshit, but that doesn’t explain how he knew that raid was coming, does it?’

‘Maybe he didn’t have any gear there. Maybe it’s all just a fantasy. Maybe he’s not in the game at all. I wouldn’t be surprised, to tell the truth.’

‘No, Henry. Matt’s boys had solid intel, and Robinson is at it all right. There’s no way he’s clean. Everyone knows he’s a mid-level operator, working for Young.’

‘So he was tipped off?’

‘Aye, I’d say so. Though Christ knows why anyone would help that little bastard out. The local cons all hate that privileged little git just as much as I do.’

The Super needed to hear about Robinson. On its own what had just happened meant nothing, but it wasn’t an isolated event. As she walked along the carpeted corridor Pepper thought about how she should broach the subject. In a way it might actually be better that, until twelve months ago, the only mystery that Mary Clark had needed to worry about was why the male senior managers at her supermarket’s HQ were paid more than her, almost to a man. And, even now, she still had trouble understanding that there was a huge difference between knowing and proving beyond reasonable doubt: and that the former was invariably far more frustrating than fruitful, when it came to putting scum-bags away. At this stage they wouldn’t even be talking about knowing, merely suspecting, and from a policing perspective any discussion would only be one step up from gossiping about the new civilian receptionist, and her cleavage’s apparently magnetic pull on the older PCs.

Superintendent Clark listened carefully, as she always did, as Pepper summarised what she knew. Three blown raids in ten days, all targeting organised crime operations in the north division, a couple of vague rumours about a leaked policing intel on the street, plus the pretty much explicit claims of Andy Robinson.

‘He’s a right twat, ma’am, don’t get me wrong, but he more or less told me that they had inside information, from us, like.’

‘And could he be the ring leader, this Anderson?’

‘Not a chance. He’s just a mid-level drug dealer, so he’s above the street but way below anyone who actually matters. And since Dai Young now owns all the drugs in Carlisle and points west, I’d say that Young is our man.’

Mary Clark smiled. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, Pepper, but with the way you talk you’d think that Young was responsible for every offence in this city, from littering upwards.’

‘He was always pretty free with a Kit-Kat wrapper’ said Pepper, smiling back. ‘So I could always nick him for offences going back to when we were both about ten, like. He bust a kid’s bike once, and stole a model aeroplane. I know that for a fact, like.’

‘And I’m sure you would, if you could. But let’s be clear about what you’re asking for here, Pepper. You’re suggesting that I request an investigation by Professional Standards, aren’t you?’

‘I’m saying that you should consider it, ma’am.’

‘But you’ve got no specific suspect in mind, is that right?’

‘No, I’ve not. We can’t even prove for certain that we’ve got someone on the inside who’s doing the dirty, not for definite, like. But word’s getting round, that’s for sure. Matt Taylor more or less told me that we’ve got someone on the take, here in this very nick.’

‘That might just be him letting off steam. There might just as well be nothing to it at all, and then I’d be accused of starting hares running, of wasting valuable resources, wouldn’t I?’

‘Worse than that, ma’am, you could lose the confidence of the troops, especially if it turns out that there’s nowt going on. But if there is, and you do nowt, well that’s even worse in the end, like. No disrespect, Mary, but it’s no secret that lots of cops don’t reckon much to all this fast-track, external recruitment, new blood bollocks.’

‘Frank as always, Pepper. So what would you do, in my position?’

‘I think you already know that.’

‘Aye. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think we had a problem.’

‘Exactly. Call it instinct if you like, but I’m almost certain. I wish I wasn’t, but I am.’

Mary Clark got up, and walked to her window. She looked out for a few seconds and then turned back to Pepper.

‘And you’ve no idea about the level or type of person who might be involved in this, if it happening?’

‘No. But that’s what the Professional Standards lot are for. They’ll soon narrow the field, I can promise you that.’

‘I’m sorry if this is difficult for you, but I do have to ask you about one officer in particular.’

‘Oh, aye? And that would be DC Copeland, would it?’

‘Mud sticks, Pepper, we all know that. And that business down at the Met, it didn’t look good.’

‘He was never even disciplined, ma’am. His record is clean. And I’ve seen nothing, absolutely nothing, to make me believe that he’s anything other than an excellent, dedicated officer. I wish we had ten more like him.’

‘All right, point taken. I’ll tell you what, Pepper. I’ll email you in a minute, and ask you to summarise what you’ve just said. Then I’ll forward it to the Super who runs Professional Standards, and ask for his opinion. He might just knock it back, and if he does then at least he’s involved in making the decision.’

‘I’m no politician, ma’am, but par for the course for old Peter Perfect would be to bounce the question straight back to you again, so it’s all on you. He’d bat the final decision back ’til Doomsday, even if all our case files were turning up on the bloody internet. It’s how people get to be senior officers, ma’am. Present company excepted, like.’

Mary Clark laughed this time. ‘Christ, Pepper, if the chips on your shoulder were any bigger they’d want salt and vinegar, love. And how are you anyway, after that punch up? I hear that a knight in shining armour rode to your rescue. Is that right?’

‘Aye, sort of.’

‘Well, when you’re finished with him would you mind sending him my way, love?’

‘Not a chance. It’s finders, keepers, is that. But actually I’m going to have to go and find him later, when I’m off duty.’

‘Blimey, you don’t hang about.’

‘No, not that, though I wouldn’t say no, like. One of the lads we nicked after the punch up made threats against Davey Hood, the lad who stepped in to help me and DC Copeland, and I want to give him a heads up.’

Mary Clark laughed. ‘I bet you do, love. I bet you bloody do.’

Davey Hood had a shower when he got back from work, an office move in Whitehaven, and wondered when he’d be too old for the piano shifting game. Another five years? Ten, if he was lucky? The stuff today had all been bloody heavy, and proved conclusively that the paperless office wouldn’t come anything like soon enough for him. He still enjoyed the work, though. The
craic
with the lads, and the physical pleasure of the effort involved. That feeling of perspiration bubbling up on the hairline, and the relief when you got to put the really big stuff down, your shoulders straining and your knees locked. He liked being hungry after too, really hungry. It reminded him of when he’d been in the army, when everyone sat and ate in the dark in silence after a long patrol. But then he’d never minded a bit of sand in his curry.

He made himself a big bowl of pasta, threw in some tuna and veg from the fridge, and ate the lot. Then he watched the Super League match on TV, and afterwards turned on his computer. He’d been to Baker’s yard before, on a night time visit, but he just wanted to remind himself of the layout. His big barrel was empty again, so he’d come away with a decent fill-up tonight, and it couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke than Baker.

He knew that all too well, because soon after he’d set up his own little firm Max Baker, the son of the founder, had come round to Hood’s yard, and more or less told him that he’d be out of business in six months.

‘Oh, aye? You and whose army?’

‘That’s not the attitude, mate. You don’t know who you’re dealing with here.’

‘No offence, son, but you don’t look strong enough to lift a roll of bog paper.’

‘I don’t do any of the manual work. But then you already knew that, didn’t you? You’re just trying to be offensive. Deliberately offensive.’

‘Mate, I’m not the one telling someone I don’t know that they’ll be out of business in six months.’

‘So you’re one of the stubborn ones, are you? I should have known, I suppose. It’s always fun, watching the likes of you go down. They always do, like, in the end. But how much pain there’ll be, well, that’s up to you.’