Read The Two Towns (The Lakeland Murders) Online
Authors: J J Salkeld
‘That’s right. Spot on, aye. Well done.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t believe you. Do you, DC Francis?’
‘I don’t. Not a word.’ Jane saw the smirk just starting to curl Graham’s lips, safe in the knowledge that the interview was coming to an end and that he had revealed nothing. It wasn’t an unexpected outcome, but it was still annoying. Then it came to her, like a revelation. And she knew, with absolute certainty, that she was right.
‘I’ll tell you exactly what I think you wanted with your brother, shall I?’
‘If you must.’
‘You wanted him to do something for you, and he didn’t want to do it. He’s hiding from you, Pete, isn’t he? That’s why he’s gone missing.’
‘Fuck off.’ Graham almost shouted, and Mr. White almost said something.
Jane was about to follow up, knowing that she’d hit home, when she felt a hand on her knee. It took her a fraction of a second to realise that it was Dixon’s, and that she should shut up.
‘We’ll leave it there for now’ said Dixon, smiling across at White. ‘But we’ll see you again very soon, won’t we, Pete?’
‘Not if I see you first, like.’
An hour later, when Jane and Ray Dixon walked into Hall’s office, they found Ian Mann already there. He and Hall were listening to the end of the interview with Pete Graham.
‘All right, impressions please’ said Hall, looking at Jane and Dixon.
‘Jane scored a bloody bullseye’ said Dixon. ‘No doubt about it. Pete looked like he wanted to lamp her, right there and then.’
‘Jane?’
‘I have that effect on people, boss. And I’m sorry if I just blurted it out. Maybe I should have waited.’
‘No, you did right. But well done for closing it down so quickly afterwards, Ray. What you showed in there was good teamwork, and I’m bloody grateful. It doesn’t matter how clever cons are, because in the end it’s every man for himself in their world, but we do our best work when we play as a team. So we all agree then? Jane’s hypothesis fits the facts, and Graham’s reaction is supportive of it, yes?’ Three heads nodded. ‘OK, so what are our next steps?’
‘Let’s get eyes on Pete Graham’ said Mann. ‘Maybe he goes looking for his brother because of this, and even if he doesn’t we might find out why the kid did a vanishing act.’
‘Can we resource that though, boss?’ asked Jane. ‘You’re talking about a big team for a 24-hour oppo.’
Dixon laughed. ‘Not when you’ve got a one man army on the team, lass.’ He pointed across at Mann. ‘I know he looks hard to miss, but Ian used to spend weeks in ditches just watching and waiting, so he doesn’t need much in the way of support.’
‘A sandwich and a flask and I’ll be reet’, said Mann. ‘There’s an intelligence file on the little scumbag too, so he’ll not be hard to find either.’
‘Are you happy to start tomorrow?’ said Hall.
‘Tonight, Andy, tonight. That poor kid could be anywhere, like.’
‘All right. But for Christ’s sake go home when Graham looks like he’s turned in for the night. I don’t want to find you’ve been living under a privet hedge and drinking rainwater for three days, understood?’
‘Aye, fine.’
‘That’s agreed then. The usual protocol applies when Ian goes commando, as it were.’
Dixon laughed, and turned to Jane. ‘We don’t contact Ian, and we cover his workload until he’s back.’
‘That’s it’ said Hall. ‘So tell me what you’re on with at the moment, Ian, and I’ll take on what I can myself. Then you can go home and cover yourself in mud and twigs, or whatever it is you do.’
‘You’ve been watching too many war films, marrer’ said Mann, as he got up to go.
Jane was very nearly late for her meeting with Phil Clark, and she had no time to re-read the file, as she had intended. His house was a handsome Victorian villa, with open views to the east. As she parked she realised that her own house was only a quarter of a mile, and at least a quarter of a million pounds, away. She pressed the door bell, and heard it tinkle inside the house.
Jane almost didn’t recognise Clark when he opened the door. He looked younger, and leaner, than he had in the photographs in the file. His hair seemed different, too. He appeared relaxed as he made them both a cup of tea.
‘Lovely house’ said Jane, while the kettle was boiling.
‘Yes, it is. I thought about moving after Ann died, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, for some reason.’
‘I can certainly see why you stayed. I’ve only just moved here, but this seems like a nice area.’
‘It is. I work in insurance, so I could give you the crime figures for this postcode, if you wanted them.’
Jane smiled. ‘I expect we have them too.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Clark passed Jane a mug, and suggested that they go through to the living room.
‘So you’re new in Kendal then? Is that why they’ve given you my wife’s case file to review? A fresh pair of eyes?’
‘Maybe. But I think that DI Hall, my boss, just wanted to ease me in gently. Give me something routine, you know.’
‘Oh, Hall. Yes, I remember him. Never knew what the bloke was thinking, but I always had the feeling that he didn’t believe what I was telling him. Not a word.’
Jane smiled. ‘Don’t worry about that, it’s just the copper’s curse.’
‘The what?’
‘It’s just what happens when you do this job. You find you never quite believe what anyone says. Not completely, anyway.’
‘That must be awkward. Outside work, I mean. Anyway, what can I do for you?’
‘Nothing, really. This is just a courtesy call. Just to let you know that the case is still very much open, that there have been no recent developments, and that I’ve been tasked with undertaking a review.’
‘Thanks for letting me know. I think about what happened all the time.’
‘That’s only natural.’
They sat, her on a nut-brown leather sofa, him in a wing-backed chair. Jane let the silence fill the room.
‘So how have you been getting on?’ she asked, eventually. She didn’t have to try to look interested.
‘Since it happened? People have been great, really. I went back to work as soon as I could, and stopped taking the happy pills ages ago. So I think I’m doing all right, considering.’
‘Great. That’s good to know.’
‘Is it? To tell the truth I always thought you people thought that I did it. And I wouldn’t blame you. In your position I would probably have thought that as well. But I didn’t kill Ann. I couldn’t have.’
‘If we thought that you had we’d have arrested you long since, wouldn’t we? I’ll do my best with this review of course, but in the absence of any new evidence I don’t expect that anyone will face justice over your wife’s death. Realistically, our only real prospect of obtaining a conviction is if we obtain a confession, or if we receive information implicating an individual.’
‘Because the killer has told someone else what he’s done, you mean?’
‘Exactly that. It actually happens more often than you’d expect. People just get over-confident, I suppose. They maybe think that we’ve lost interest. But a case like this is never closed, not until the last person of interest is dead.’
‘That’s good to know. That what happened to Ann won’t be forgotten, I mean. But was there anything in particular you wanted to ask me about today? I don’t want to rush you, but I’ve got a friend coming round shortly.’
‘Of course. Sorry to hold you up. Just one thing that I wasn’t completely certain about, reading the file. The caravan opposite yours wasn’t attacked that night, by which I mean the heater flue wasn’t tampered with. So I just wanted to check, did you happen to see the occupants that night?’
‘You can’t think it was the Sidhus? They’re both in their seventies. I think he’s a retired doctor.’
‘No, they’ve never been suspects. I was just curious, really.’
Clark hesitated briefly before he replied.
‘No, I didn’t know that they were there. Does it matter?’
‘I doubt it, no.’
The bell tinkled again, and Jane expected Clark to get up. But he stayed where he was. So the visitor had to have their own key.
‘That’ll be Sarah.’
‘I’d better be going.’
Jane got up, and stepped forward to shake hands with Clark, just as Sarah came in.
‘This is Sarah. Love, this is DC Francis. She’s looking into what happened.’
‘Isn’t the case closed? Has something happened? Have you caught someone?’
‘No, nothing’s happened, Ms?’
‘Walker. So why are you here then?’
‘The case can’t be closed, Ms. Walker, because an inquest jury recoded a verdict of unlawful killing. And that in turn means that someone, or maybe several people, have yet to face justice for Ann’s death.’
‘Right, of course. You just startled me a bit, that’s all. Look, Phil, I can come back later.’
‘No need, I was just going. I’ll be in touch again when the review is completed, Mr. Clark. Meanwhile, if there’s anything that either of you would like to discuss then please do get in touch. Just phone Kendal station, and ask for DC Jane Francis.’ Jane smiled at both of them. ‘I must leave you two to it. And don’t worry about me. I can see myself out.’
When she was in the car Jane made a note of Sarah Walker’s name and wrote ’30?’ next to it. There could be very little doubt that Phil Clark had indeed moved on. ‘I should bloody try it myself some time’ she said out loud, reaching for the car’s ignition. It had been a long day, and now she was glad that it was over. She tried to remember what food she had in the house, and couldn’t decide between little or none. She’d made various new job’s resolutions before she’d arrived, and it rather looked as if the ‘no take-aways’ one had already gone west.
Ian Mann was in his car, tucking in to a selection of fresh fruit. It was just after ten PM and he’d been on Pete Graham for hours already. At just before seven Graham had walked from his house to three addresses, all near his mum’s, and remained at each for less than five minutes. Mann had a note of each address, but guessed that they were probably the homes of some of Johnny’s friends.
But soon things started to become more interesting. Graham had been collected from his mum’s at half-eight by some lads in a big, shiny 4x4. The rear windows were blacked out, but Mann thought that they were probably three up. He followed them to Windermere, then down into Bowness. The car had stopped outside a couple of pubs, then a night club, and a young man who wasn’t Pete Graham had gone inside. Each time he’d only been a minute or two. Then they’d driven back to Kendal, and had stopped outside a fast food place. Again Graham had stayed in the car, and the lad who’d been running the errands earlier returned to the car carrying four bags of food. Mann watched the windows slowly steaming up, and called a mate on the drugs squad team at HQ. He confirmed that everywhere that had been visited was known to the drugs squad. But he didn’t recognise the vehicle registration.
‘Do you want me to run it through the system, while you’re on?’
‘Aye. It’d save me a job later.’
‘Hang on. Oh, aye, it’s registered to Brian Kennedy, at an address in Barrow.’
‘You know him?’
‘Aye. Mid-level pusher and wannabe hard man. Not the brightest, which is why we keep nicking him, I suppose.’
‘Will they have any gear in the car then?’
‘Come on, Ian. I said he’s not the brightest, but he’s not that bloody stupid. The car’s registered in his own name, for fuck’s sake. They’ll just be checking in on their street-level lads, that’s all.’
‘Is my target, Pete Graham, a KA of this Kennedy? I don’t remember seeing the name.’
‘No, he’s not. I’ll add him to the file now though. Your boy Graham is right at the very bottom of the food chain, so it’d be a step up to even be riding around with the likes of Kennedy. Maybe he’s taken the lad on, like. Kennedy lost four or five of his boys last month, as it happens.’
‘Was that down to you?’
‘Aye. Well the lads, anyway. We got a couple of hundred grand’s worth of gear, plus we nicked a few of his people. Quite a nice little result, actually.’
‘It’s an ill wind, and all that.’
‘Your target getting a bump up because of it, you mean? Aye. They’re just jail fodder though, lads like him. We nick them, but there are always more coming along behind. It’ll go on forever, I expect.’
‘I’m glad I phoned you now, mate.’
‘Aye, well. You’re sounding far too bloody cheerful, Ian. But then you love a bit of the old cloak-and-dagger, don’t you?’
‘Nothing better, mate. I better go though, because it looks like my boys have finished their burgers. The inside of that car will smell like a fart factory in a bit.’
‘Thanks for calling. You’ve put me right off my scran now.’
Wednesday, 9th November
It was two in the morning, and Ian Mann was just starting to feel tired. He was aware that his edge was going, and that was never good. But he had plenty of techniques to fall back on, and he started working his way through them. If he was needed, he’d be ready. The SUV had parked in a car park close to Kendal town centre, and there was no one about. Two of the men had got out about half an hour before, and they’d driven away in a Mini that was already parked there. Mann had noted the number, and he was certain that Pete Graham was still in the 4x4. So what was he doing with Kennedy? And what, or who, were they waiting for?
It was another twenty minutes before Mann had his answer. A white van pulled into the car park, circled round, and stopped next to Kennedy’s car. The headlights went off, and Mann saw the door opening. It was a woman, he was sure of it. Both front doors of Kennedy’s car opened, at almost the same moment, and Mann knew immediately that something was wrong. The woman seemed to sense it too, because she ran for the van. But she didn’t quite make it, and the passenger, who Mann was sure was Pete Graham, caught her, and grabbed her arm. Mann had his own car door open before Graham had even finished raising his arm to strike her. And during the lung-bursting ten seconds that it took Mann to reach them he had already decided how he’d explain his decision to take on two, and possibly three, criminals entirely alone, and with no possibility of back-up arriving in time. Fortunately he didn’t have time to calculate how many rules, advisories and agreed practices he was actually flouting, because the total was well into the teens.