Crossing the Line (Kerry Wilkinson) (37 page)

enough of this place. Everyone tried to talk him out of it but his mind was made up.’

‘What do you mean, he’s our man?’

Donald puffed on the cigarette, giggling to himself. ‘You’re not very good coppers, are you?’

‘How do you know we’re police?’

Another deep drag and Donald flicked the remains of the cigarette over the wall, holding his hand

out. Jessica plonked the packet in it.

‘Let’s just say Max is your man. He’d been wondering how long it’d take you all.’

39

Max Winward’s bungalow on the edge of Droylsden would have once been a smart little property

buried at the end of a cul de sac. The only reason it wasn’t now was because someone who was

terminally ill presumably didn’t have time to mow the lawn, prune the bushes and trim the trees.

Jessica had to duck to get under the overhanging branches and then walk on the lawn to get around the

overgrown bush separating the bungalow from the neighbouring property. Jessica had called

Rowlands to get an address for Max and given him the details – telling him to give them half-an-

hour’s head start and then pass up the rest of the information.

The once-white plastic door was covered in a thin layer of dirt but the handle was almost clean

from where it had been opened recently. Jessica rang the bell and knocked, waiting for a minute

before trying again.

‘Shall we get the battering ram boys in?’ Izzy asked.

As much as she enjoyed the sound of things being smashed, Jessica shook her head, side-stepping

to the window. The curtains were wide open but the uncharacteristic appearance of the sun meant that

she had to use her hand to shield the glare.

‘He’s in there,’ Jessica said.

‘Shall we—?’

‘He saw me and was pointing towards the front door.’

Jessica returned to the door and pulled the unlocked handle down. She and Izzy entered the hallway

slowly, still wary that they were entering the house of someone potentially dangerous. Because they

weren’t in their work suits, Jessica didn’t even have her pepper spray or handcuffs but the cheery

voice from the front room sounded as unthreatening as anything she’d ever heard. ‘You can come on

through,’ the man’s voice chirped. ‘The door straight ahead of you is the kitchen – someone can put

the kettle on. I’m on your right.’

Jessica glanced at Izzy and shrugged. It wasn’t like the raids they usually went on. Slowly, Jessica

nudged open the door into the living room and poked her head around it. Staring directly at her was a

man in an armchair, grinning. ‘Hi, I’m Max. I was wondering when you’d show up.’

From the information Dave had given them, they knew Max Winward was sixty-one years old but

everything except his eyes looked older. He was huddled under a blanket, shivering slightly. The faint

sound of Radio Four was in the background as Jessica slowly entered the room until she was standing

directly in front of Max. He held out a hand for her to shake, which Jessica did – explaining that she

had to check him for anything dangerous. She lifted the blanket, patted his pockets, and then returned

his cover, telling Izzy to put the kettle on. Max removed his hat, showing his bald head.

‘Cancer,’ he said. ‘Could be a few days, could be six months. What do doctors know?’

Jessica heard the plip of the kettle from the kitchen. ‘Max, when you said you were wondering

when we’d show up, what did you mean?’

‘You’re police, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s taken you long enough. How long ago was Callaghan?’

‘Just under three weeks.’

‘Exactly – Saturday knackered me out; all those people. It takes a lot.’

Izzy entered through a second door at the back of the room holding a dark blue hooded top in a

gloved hand. Jessica barely knew what to say – it was the strangest arrest she’d ever made. She read

Max Winward his rights as he smiled along and then Izzy put the hoody back on the hook where she’d

found it and brought in the tea. Max’s eyes only left Jessica to sip his drink. Each time he lifted his

arm there was a wince, as Jessica found it almost impossible to believe he was the same person who

had outrun her in the park.

When they were all settled, Izzy took out her notebook. Strictly speaking, this should have been

done at the station but Jessica sensed this would be the easiest confession they’d ever take.

‘Can we start at the beginning,’ Jessica asked. Max sipped his tea, nodding. ‘To confirm – you’re

admitting to attacking Luke Callaghan, Alan Hume, Victor Todd and Humphrey Marsh.’

Max nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Can I ask you a question first – was it Donald who sent you here?’ Jessica didn’t answer but Max

began laughing anyway. ‘Silly old sod. Is he still going on about fags and women? You didn’t give

him any, did you? Fags I mean . . .’ With that, he was laughing again until he dissolved into a fit of

coughing that sent tea spilling over the top of his cup.

‘Sorry,’ he said when he’d recovered. ‘I’ve been getting worse. Perhaps it’s finally my time? The

doctors gave me six months to live at Christmas. I moved into that hospice a few months ago but it’s

so—’ He paused, swirling his hand around, searching for the word. ‘I don’t know, full of dying

people. I felt great. There are horrible days which I won’t tell you about – not young people like

yourselves – but there are others where you think you can do everything you did when you were

younger. I’d wonder what I was doing there, thinking the doctor had got it wrong. I’d come home for a

while, then I’d have a bad day where I couldn’t even get out of bed.’ He looked directly at Jessica.

‘Have you ever had anyone close to you with cancer?’

Jessica shook her head. ‘Not cancer. My dad had a brain haemorrhage.’

‘It’s hard to describe. It’s almost like you can feel it sometimes; like it’s in your mind hurting you.

Sometimes I’d wake up and not know where I was; who I was. Everything hurt. They give you things

to make it feel better but you never know where you are. Half the time I didn’t know if I was ill or

well. On the days I was ill, I wanted to die to make it go away, on the others, I wanted to go and do

things with my life.’

‘What did you do?’

Max put his tea down and pulled the blanket up over himself. ‘I know some people have these lists

of things they want to do and places they want to go but I’ve never been that adventurous. It wasn’t as

simple as that. I just listened to people around the home. Everyone had so many things wrong in their

lives, so I wondered if I could do a few things that would make it better for them. I’m not strong

enough to act too often and it’s hard to plan completely because I didn’t know if I was going to have a

bad day. But I was in the army when I was younger, so I know how to look after myself. It wasn’t

even that hard in the end. I never really wanted to hurt anyone, just bring them down a few pegs.’

‘Tell me about Luke Callaghan.’

Max paused, waiting for Izzy’s pen to stop scratching. ‘Have you caught up?’ he asked.

Izzy’s awkward ‘yes’ echoed how Jessica felt. She’d never had a criminal ask if her notes were in

order before, let alone stop speaking to make sure nothing was missed.

‘Not long after I got to St Trinity’s, I got talking to this old boy. He was a war vet – my old dad

would’ve loved him. He’d lost his vocal cords and could barely speak but he’d croak his way

through a conversation. He was telling me how his daughter was living next door to someone whose

husband used to beat her around. He said the guy’s name was Callaghan and that he was some sort of

councillor. It wasn’t hard to do a bit of digging – some of us codgers can use the Internet, you know –

and so I found out all about him. One day I was in his room and he was saying how his daughter had

heard all this banging on the door of the flat next door and we were joking that if we were thirty years younger that we’d do something about it.’

Max was short on breath and he stopped, breathing deeply and taking a drink of his tea. He nodded

towards Izzy again. ‘Are you all right, dear?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Anyway, I was in bed that night and thought, “Why don’t I do something about it?” On my good

days, I’m as fit as I was years ago – maybe it’s the drugs but I feel great. Plus, if I get caught, what does it matter? By the time you lot get me through court, I’ll be dead anyway. At least that poor girl

will get a bit of respite. While I was thinking about that, I kept hearing all sorts of other things. One of the other women was telling me about this grim flat where her daughter was living and how the

landlord was trying to blackmail her to go to bed with him – horrible stuff. I thought I had to make a

stand and so I started planning. Obviously it’s hard because I’d forget things on my bad days. I wrote

everything down.’

He started to get up, motioning towards an old-fashioned bureau in the corner of the room. Jessica

told him she’d go – and sure enough, there was a stack of neatly written notes about all four of the

victims.

Jessica put a glove on to flick through the top few papers, then returned them to the bureau. They’d

need more evidence bags than the ones she had in her car. ‘How did you know where Luke Callaghan

was going to be?’

‘He put it on the Internet, didn’t he? It was only ever going to be him and I didn’t think I’d get

away. There’s a big cupboard at St Trinity’s where they keep all of the medicines and other controlled

things. I was a bit naughty – waiting until it was unlocked and then telling the nurse Donald was

having problems. She ran off and I took this acid stuff. I didn’t realise it was as bad as it was. I

thought it’d just scar the guy – y’know, teach him to keep his hands to himself. I didn’t think it’d blind him.’

‘So you went to Piccadilly on the tram.’

‘I thought there’d be a big crowd of people but I guess no one’s interested in these politicians.

Afterwards I kept my head down and made a run for it – no point in making it too easy for you. I

thought you’d come that day, either here or St Trinity’s, but the knock never came – so I thought I’d

have to act quickly.’

‘Alan Hume was the next day, in the evening.’

‘Exactly. I think the excitement and adrenaline gave me a bit of a spurt because I felt like a different person. I thought it was now or never, so I phoned him up about doing a job. I thought I’d lure him

somewhere, maybe even here, I wasn’t bothered – but he said he was doing some fitting job at the

shopping centre. I thought it’d be as good a place as any – but I also realised there was a chance your

cameras hadn’t got me that first time, so I thought I’d be more careful.’

‘Where did you get the mask?’

‘Just some stall on the market – they’re everywhere. I went looking around the car park for a van

with his name on – you know what builders are like, it’s a free advert, so it wasn’t hard. Then I

waited. I was sorry about that mother and her kids who saw it. That I do regret – perhaps I’ll write

them a letter.’

He genuinely sounded sorry at the prospect he might have upset the bystanders, although there was

still something about that attack that was a little different from the others. ‘With Alan Hume, he was

actually beaten with a bat. No offence but . . . if it was you, how did you manage to overpower a

younger man?’

Max smiled and began laughing until it again became a cough. He was almost bent over double in

the chair, trying to apologise while still coughing. Jessica wasn’t sure what she could do but Izzy

disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. Max took a sip and eventually the

cough receded. ‘If I’d known I was going to end up coughing like this anyway, I’d have never stopped

smoking in my thirties.’ He smiled again and it was impossible not to return it.

‘I told you I was in the army, didn’t I?’

‘Yes.’

‘In your jobs you must know that it’s rarely about strength and size.’ He nodded towards Izzy. ‘I bet

you’ve had to restrain some much bigger blokes in your time, haven’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Outside of the bedroom too.’ As Izzy blushed, Max burst out laughing at his own joke, launching

himself into another coughing spurt. He was still grinning at the end of it. ‘Sorry, love, you can’t

blame an old man for the odd dirty thought here and there.’

Izzy still seemed a little embarrassed, even though she was smiling. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Anyway, my point is that it’s not about any of those things. I was always one of the smaller guys in

the army but people learn pretty quickly who they can get away with picking on. I’d had this bat in the

shed for years and never used it. It was a bit too heavy for me, so I sawed the end off. I took him by

surprise with the first blow and it was fine after that. Like Callaghan, I wasn’t trying to seriously hurt him, just teach him a lesson that he should treat people better. When I saw that woman and her boys, I

felt terrible.’

‘After that, it was four days until you attacked Victor Todd.’

Max took another sip from his water, then finished off his tea, nodding. ‘I was really tired the

morning after the Hume thing but it was getting in the papers and I was thinking they were really

getting what they deserved. A couple of the nurses were talking and I overheard one of them saying

how her daughter wasn’t getting any money from the daddy of her baby. Apparently he had all these

children with different mums and he wasn’t paying any of them. It’s just not right, is it – all those poor kiddies with such a shite for a dad. What chance have they got?’