Death on High (The Lakeland Murders) (18 page)

‘Who watches the watchers, that sort of thing?’

‘Yes. It’ll be interesting to see how Gorham wants to play it from here. Can’t say I’m all that bothered really, so what I wanted to know is how you feel. Are you happy to carry on, or do you want us to nick the lot now? I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you did.’

‘No way Andy, not a chance. There’s so much still to find out, especially about Spedding and his crew. And Fraser looks like he may be a good target. He’s certainly a big enough one, he’s the size of a very wobbly house.’

Hall nodded. ‘Yes, and it’s a shame we don’t know a bit more about what Spedding’s up to.’

‘Must be metals again, surely. And we know he’s involved with Fraser, so he’s probably rustling livestock too.’

Forty minutes later DC Dixon arrived, at 8:58, and he joined Mann and Hall in the conference room. But by nine fifteen no-one else had arrived.

‘It’s not like the Super to be late’ said Hall, ‘I wonder what’s keeping him? We’ll give it another five, then let’s go back to work. He’ll find us if he still wants us.’

Hall was just gathering his notes together when the door swung open, and Robinson came in. He was flushed, and his voice seemed slightly hoarse. He closed the door, a little too hard, and sat at the head of the table.

‘I’m sorry to have kept you. But I just had a meeting with Inspector Gorham. She was insisting that we involve the local force in Yorkshire in the investigation of Fraser, as of now.’ Hall was about to speak when Robinson raised his hand. ‘I told her that we have reason to believe that Fraser has influence with DEFRA locally, and possibly with other arms of the state too, and that I insisted that we proceed with caution. I will not have the safety of one of my officers compromised. This is an undercover operation after all, and the name explains the basic idea really.’

‘How did she take it sir?’

‘Very badly. She said she was acting on the authority of the Chief. I said that I’d need to discuss the matter with him, and she said that he was unavailable today. I told her that not only would I not authorise any dissemination of information concerning any aspect of this case, but that I would make an immediate complaint through the Superintendents Association if Ian was compromised in any way whatsoever.’

‘So she’s leaving us to get on with it then?’ asked Mann hopefully.

‘No. There’s no talking to these bastards.’ It was the first time that Hall had ever heard Robinson swear, even mildly. ‘She only had the bloody nerve to tell me that she thought that Ian was exaggerating the level of threat, in order to suggest that he was facing a greater level of personal risk than he is, given that Fraser has no significant criminal record.’

Both Hall and Dixon laughed out loud. Mann looked slightly surprised at their reaction.

‘I told her that she was talking out of her arse, to get out of my station, and that if one word about this operation is heard beyond the small group of officers currently involved then I will do two things. First, I will cancel the operation, withdraw Ian and arrest and charge as we can. And second, I would lodge an immediate complaint with the Superintendent’s Association.’

‘And what did she say?’

‘Nothing much. I just had a note of the meeting typed up quickly, we both signed it, and she’s gone now.’

‘How will it play out? What if the Chief backs her?’

‘Then Ian is out of it, with no further discussion. I’m sorry, all of you, but that’s how it is. This isn’t a few jokers operating opportunistically, this is potentially very serious organised crime. That means there’s money here, and lots of it. And that always means violence, and sad to say, the risk of corruption as well. In my judgement Ian’s assessment of the risk is 100% accurate, and we will all proceed on that basis. Is that quite clear?’

Wednesday, 13th March

Ian Mann spent the morning waiting to get called back in, and for the operation to be over. He even packed up his clothes. But the call never came. And at three Brockbank phoned and told Mann that they were on that night, and that they’d meet at Devil’s Bridge at midnight. Then Mann sat on the old brown sofa in his living room until it was dark outside. He liked Ben Brockbank, and because of that he had found himself trusting him. But given that Brockbank was involved with someone like Fraser Mann knew that he should be more careful. He needed to keep his guard up, even with Brockbank. Maybe even especially with Brockbank.

He sat and thought about what Val Gorham had said to Robinson too. Had he perhaps mis-read Fraser, was he just a good actor, playing the part of the vicious crime boss? Ian Mann prided himself on not being an especially instinctive copper, but he felt certain that Fraser was a genuinely evil man, the kind who would place the same value on a human life as he did on all those doe-eyed beasts that came into his slaughterhouse each and every day. Mann had come across real evil before, and he knew what it smelt like.

Then he thought about the little device he’d taken from the evidence locker at work. It was an illegal American-made electronic stun device, fully charged, and not needed as evidence in the case to which it related for another month. So he reckoned he’d be able to get it back without anyone noticing. It had the power to fell the likes of Fraser faster than Mann could do with his fists, although it did carry some health risks. But not, thought Mann, for the person who’s using it. Mann put it in his jacket pocket. Even if he was searched at some point that night surely no-one could be surprised that he was carrying.

With that in mind he went upstairs, and found the knife that he’d brought with him from home. He didn’t slip it out of its sheaf, because he knew it was sharp, and exactly what it could do in his hands. He sat on the bed just looking at it, then slipped it into his inside pocket, dropped the jacket on the bed and went downstairs to make something to eat.

At half-ten he got changed, threw his gear in the car, and drove to Kirkby Lonsdale. He parked in the town square and walked to the bridge. There was no one around, so he walked back, got back into the car, and parked at Devil’s Bridge at 11.50pm. Five minutes later a lorry drew up. Brockbank was driving. Mann walked to the other side and climbed in.

‘I thought I was driving.’

‘You are. This is a two truck job. We only get to hit this place the once, so we want to clear them out of beef cattle tonight. It’s a big job, and there’s a grand in this job for you. That should keep you in burgers for a while.’

They drove in silence for a couple of minutes, then Brockbank pulled in behind a lorry parked in a lay-by. ‘The keys are in it. Just follow me there, it doesn’t matter if we’re stopped, but after we’ve loaded up you go the route I showed you. I’ll be going a different way. Afterwards, come back here. And Gary, be careful, OK?’

‘You mean around the beasts?’

‘Aye, but at Malcolm’s place too. Like I said, I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him. So you watch yourself, yeh?’

Mann nodded and swung out of the cab. From then until they reached the farm he had to concentrate absolutely on keeping the truck on the road, and reasonably close to Brockbank. It had been years since he’d driven a truck, but he was glad of the distraction.

At the farm it all went perfectly. Brockbank worked fast, loading his lorry, then Mann’s. The cows made a hell of a racket the whole time, perhaps they sensed that something wasn’t right, but there wasn’t another house for half a mile, so Mann wasn’t too bothered. He knew that such things didn’t exist, but Mann was starting to feel like this was almost a victimless crime. The beasts would be going for slaughter soon anyway, and the human victims of this crime were probably tucked up in their linened beds down south somewhere. So they hardly counted at all, not out here among the cowshit and the dark.

The drive to Bradford was uneventful too, although Mann felt pretty drained by the time he reached the gates. They swung open as he approached, and he could see that Brockbank had beaten him to it. His truck was already almost unloaded, and Mann could see him helping a couple of men move the stock inside.

Mann backed his truck in next to Brockbank’s and got out of the cab and walked quickly to the back, ready to help.

‘Get back in the cab’ someone said. So he climbed back into the cab and kept checking both of his mirrors. It was possible that someone could get to the front of the vehicle without him seeing, so he kept his right hand on the electronic stun device. He decided he could use it once, then he’d have to go for the knife. There’d be no fighting room, so he’d have no choice.

But it didn’t come to that. He felt the truck rocking from side to side as the cattle were unloaded, then heard and felt the tailgate swinging back up. A figure walked down his side of the truck, easily in his line of sight all the way, and gave Mann the thumbs up. Mann started to relax. They probably told him to stay in the cab because they knew he was a townie, and would have been no real help moving the animals. So he started his truck, and drove slowly out of the yard.

After he’d driven for a minute or two, relaxing and thinking that he’d really had nothing to worry about while they’d been unloading, a thought suddenly occurred to him. For a minute or two Mann tried to ignore it, because it was just too unlikely, but he couldn’t quite get it out of his mind. He was still in well-lit and built-up streets, so it was now or never. In no time he’d be back on the A65 for the drive home.

So Mann reached into his bag as he drove, and pulled out his torch. Then he stopped, left the engine running, and jumped down out of the cab. He didn’t close the door. He ran to the back, slid the bolts and pulled the tailgate down fast. He flicked the torch round the darker corners of the truck, saw it was empty and closed up again. It seemed he’d been worried about nothing, but someone could have got into the back of the lorry without him knowing, he was certain of it.

Inevitably Brockbank beat him back to Kirkby Lonsdale, and so Mann pulled in behind him and flicked off his lights. He was absolutely shattered, even though all he’d really done was drive. He got out of the cab wearily, and climbed in beside Brockbank. He was grinning.

‘What kept you Gary? Call yourself a Scooby driver?’

‘It’s not quite the same Ben, even your old heap is faster than that truck. Plus I stopped for a minute.’

‘Why was that?’

‘I wanted to check that in didn’t have an unwanted passenger on board. You know, in the back.’

‘You suspicious bastard.’

‘Mebbe, but I’ve got you thinking, I’ll bet.’

‘Nah’ Brockbank laughed. ‘I did just exactly the same thing. Like I said, I don’t trust Malcolm Fraser any further than I could throw him. And Christ knows that’d not be far.’

Thursday, 14th March

Andy Hall was feeling pretty relaxed, which for him was about as good as it ever got, even on holiday. Spring was in the air, and Ian Mann had called him in the early hours to say that he’d got home safely. Hall decided to give him a few hours before he called back, let the bloke get a bit of well-earned rest. So he had breakfast with the kids, and was just about to leave for work when Jane called. She needed to see him urgently, outside the office.

‘Have you looked at your email this morning Andy?’

‘No, I was saving that daily pleasure until I got to the office for once. Why?’

‘The Super has really gone off on one. It’s about me talking to Lillian Hill.’

‘But you haven’t been.’

‘I’m afraid I have.’

Hall felt his good mood vanishing as fast as early morning mist.

‘I’ll see you at the George cafe in ten minutes’ he said. That might give him time to calm down, but he doubted it.

The cafe was quiet, and when Hall arrived Jane was still there, sitting at a window table with a couple of teas. It didn’t take long for her to tell Hall what she’d done. But he had already read Robinson’s email, so he knew most of it already.

‘So you did snoop on the congregation of a bloody church of all things, then accused Lillian Hill of having an affair with Tony Harrison, and capped it all with an unauthorised PNC check on his car?’

‘Yes, I did. I’m really sorry it’s caused so much trouble. I wasn’t expecting it at all. But on the up-side we do know that Lillian was having an affair with Tony, even though she’s denying it.’

‘But where does that take us though Jane? Precisely nowhere. Presumably she’s denying it because Jesus wants her for a sunbeam, as Kurt Cobain definitely didn’t say. And even if we accept that she has a motive now we know that she can’t have done it, because point one Butterworth didn’t see anyone else around after it happened, and point two don’t you think that Vicky Harrison would have grassed Lillian Hill right up, if Lillian had just tipped Tony over the side? Can you see any reason why Vicky would want to protect Lillian, or vice-versa come to that?’

‘You’re right, Andy, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’