Death on High (The Lakeland Murders) (32 page)

Andy Hall barely heard the ripple of applause as he walked slowly to the ambulance. The blows to the ribs that he’d taken late on in the struggle was starting to ache badly, but he stood as tall as he could. Inside the ambulance he lay down on the stretcher, and felt every bump in the road all the way to Carlisle. For the first time since he’d run out after Ray Dixon he felt afraid, and though he wanted to think about Ian Mann, and what he could do to help, he could only think of his two daughters. The picture he had in his mind of them was suddenly extraordinarily vivid. He so badly wanted to be there to help and support them, and see at least at least the first half of their own life stories.

As soon as he’d had his ribs strapped up Hall called home. It was after nine AM, and Alice was up, revising. She didn’t even know that he hadn’t come home the previous night, and he told her not to worry about him, whatever she saw on the news. Then he went looking for Ray Dixon.

Ray was sitting up in bed, with his wife sitting on one side and Robinson, still clutching a bunch of flowers, on the other. He looked relieved to see Hall, who asked Dixon how he was feeling.

‘I’m fine boss. Good thing they hit me on the head, and not somewhere that really matters.’

‘When will they let you out?’

‘They want the bump on my head to go down, then they’ll do a scan, and then I can go home. Probably tomorrow. But that’s our holiday buggered.’

‘Sorry to hear that mate. I suppose ski-ing’s not such a good idea after a bump on the head. Still, you must already have something booked for next month.’

Dixon started to laugh, then stopped abruptly. ‘Ow, that hurt.’

Outside in the corridor Robinson asked Hall how he was feeling.

‘Fine sir, I’m completely fit for duty.’

‘Have you see Ian Mann yet?’

‘No, I was just going to see him now.’

‘Too late. He was taken to Carlisle nick twenty minutes ago, under arrest.’

‘What charge?’

‘Manslaughter of the driver. Ian snapped his neck apparently; the man was dead before he hit the ground.’

‘He’d broken Ian’s arm. What choice did he have? I’ll get straight down there.’

‘No you won’t Inspector. You will come back to Kendal with me and make a start on interviewing the ones we nicked last night, that’s Brockbank and this Cartmel character, the one with the haulage yard.’

Hall nodded. Realistically, all he could do was give his statement, and see Ian as soon as he was bailed.

‘I’m going to be a bit short-handed sir, what with two of my guys stuck up here and Jane Francis gone.’

‘I’ve thought about that Andy, and I’m willing for you to contact Jane and ask her to come and do some overtime at Kendal, helping you out. I can probably delay her redeployment by a few days too.’

Hall went with his instinct. ‘I’m sorry sir, but I’d advise her not to do that, and I’m sure she wouldn’t anyway. As you know she feels very harshly treated, and I completely agree with her.’

Robinson looked tired, and his tone wasn’t as firm as Hall had expected. Or perhaps his political antennae were telling him to try to keep Hall onside in the aftermath of the two deaths at the Abbey. ‘I see, so what do you suggest Inspector?’

‘I suggest that Jane is simply reinstated, and her disciplinary record corrected.’

Robinson shook his head.

‘How about reinstatement on probation, and no change to the disciplinary record?’

‘No probation, but the black mark stays. I promise you that she won’t ever get another.’

Robinson smiled weakly. He was slightly surprised that Hall played his hand so well.

‘Done. And I do agree that she has the makings of a good officer. But don’t think that you’ll be able to do the same for Ian Mann. I’m afraid he’s beyond your help Andy. Beyond any of us.’

‘What do you think will happen then, sir?’

‘They may try to take it to trial because they’re so worried about accusations of excessive force. But his broken arm should mean he beats it, no bother. So they may decide to not even try. But he’s done in the job Andy. He’ll be suspended now, and if he doesn’t resign they’ll sack him, and soon. As you know it’s not a judicial process.’

‘I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.’

‘I’m quite certain you will Andy, and I’ll do everything that I can to help you both. But answer me one question first. Do you really believe that Ian used reasonable force last night?’

Hall hesitated, just for a moment. ‘Of course I do sir.’

Saturday, 30th March

Ben Brockbank didn’t really know what to expect. He’d spent a night in the cells, after the duty solicitor had explained why he’d been arrested, and what to expect would happen the next day. Brockbank was surprised that he’d been the subject of an undercover operation, but astonished that Gary Benson had turned out to be a Police Sergeant called Ian Mann. But he wasn’t quite as surprised when the solicitor told him that Mann had killed Spedding and one of his crew. ‘The undercover officer’s evidence in this case will be completely tainted’ said the duty solicitor, ‘so I’m strongly advising you to go no comment on everything.’

In the interview Ben Brockbank did as he was told. Andy Hall had expected as much, but he went through every question nonetheless. Jane had to go out twice to get all of them more drinks, and they took a comfort break too. With nothing to lose Hall tried a couple of wild cards at the end. The duty solicitor looked as if he was about to nod off by now, and had long since stopped noting Brockbank’s litany of no comment responses.

‘I wonder what your parents will make of the fact you’ve been arrested Ben?’ said Hall.

‘No comment.’

‘You see, whatever happens from here on they’ll know what you’ve done, and so will everyone in the county. Doesn’t that bother you? Won’t they be ashamed?’

‘No comment.’

‘Ian Mann says that you’re a good lad, and that you feel you’ve been backed into a corner. He thinks that’s why you’ve been thieving.’

Brockbank said nothing, but then Hall hadn’t asked a question.

‘But that won’t wash, not here, not in court, and not with your mum and dad, your friends, your neighbours. Because there are lots of young people in your position, and they don’t choose the easy way out, now do they?’

‘No comment.’

‘You’re no Robin Hood Ben, and no one will think you are. It’s because of you, and people like you, that honest folks like your mum and dad pay more in insurance. And more to the point you’re the reason that they lie awake all night waiting for a sound from the yard, as if they haven’t already got enough to worry about. There really is no such thing as a victimless crime.’

Brockbank said nothing, and the solicitor started fidgeting. Hall held up his hands in mock surrender, so Jane gave the time, and snapped off the recorder. She still couldn’t quite believe that she was back, and back to stay.

‘You’ll be bailed this afternoon I expect’ said Hall, ‘do you want me to call your wife, or your parents?’

‘No, I’ll be all right. But what about Gary, I mean Ian Mann. How is he?’

‘Not too bad, and thanks for asking. He’s got a broken arm, but the worst thing is that he’s in a hell of a lot more trouble than you are. It doesn’t seem fair really, does it?’

‘I stopped expecting anything to be fair years ago’ said Brockbank, ‘I thought you’d worked that out by now.’

Ian Mann knew exactly what to expect. Val Gorham had conducted each of three interviews with him personally, and if she thought that a night in the cells and a few hours of lost sleep would bother him then she had another thing coming. Spedding’s death didn’t bother him in the slightest, because he knew with absolute certainty that Spedding would have killed him if he could. But that driver was different, and he asked himself questions that Gorham would never have had the insight to put to him. And he was glad of that.

Mann knew quite a bit about the driver now. He was called Craig Wishaw, he was 35, and he had two children under ten. He had plenty of form though, most of it was relatively minor, although the solicitor that the Federation had sent up from Liverpool said that Wishaw had two convictions for affray in amongst the TWOCing and the D&Ds. ‘Just your regular working scumbag’ was the way the lawyer had put it, ‘he was quite happy to mix it if he had to, but he preferred to do as little work as possible.’

Mann had spent the better part of the last eighteen hours going over just five seconds in his mind, the last five seconds of Wishaw’s life. Forget what a court might decide, or what the likes of Val Gorham thought, had he really only used reasonable force?

Val Gorham was in plain clothes that morning, and Mann briefly wondered if that had any significance. Perhaps having her hair in a policewoman’s bun was giving her a headache.

‘Mr. Mann, we now have the results of the post-mortem on Craig Wishaw. He died from a single blow to the back of the neck.’

‘That is entirely consistent with Sergeant Mann’s statement’ said the Federation lawyer.

Gorham ignored him. ‘I’ll quote what the pathologist said. ‘The blow was consistent with a high level of force, and while it could have been from the edge of a hand it could also have been delivered by a narrow, but blunt, weapon. In my judgment significantly less force would have been required to kill Mr. Wishaw, still less to incapacitate him.’ Do you have anything to say, Mr. Mann?’

‘I have explained this already, numerous times. My left arm was injured, and I had limited options in terms of how to subdue Mr. Wishaw, who as you know was armed. I was also aware that two of my colleagues were in urgent need of my assistance. I had no intention of doing any more than temporarily incapacitating him.’

‘With a karate chop to the neck?’

‘As I said, I was partly incapacitated myself and had very limited options.’

‘There is another explanation.’

‘What’s that? I’ve told you what happened.’

‘Perhaps it was you who hit Mr. Wishaw over the back of the neck with the tyre iron. Is that how it happened?’

‘No, I never had it during the struggle.’

‘You never held it at all?’

‘No.’

‘Then how do you explain the fact that your fingerprints were on it?’

Mann sat back. ‘What? I never touched it.’

Gorham was watching Mann closely, but she didn’t speak.

‘Wait, I picked it up and moved it when I was looking at Wishaw. I kneeled down straight on it to begin with. But I never used it as a weapon. I didn’t hit anyone with it.’

‘So you say that you didn’t strike Mr. Wishaw with it?’

‘That’s right.’ Mann had an idea. ‘Can we see the picture of the tyre lever with the place where my prints were found indicated?’

‘Why do you ask that?’ said Gorham defensively.

‘Sergeant Mann’s request is perfectly reasonable, Inspector Gorham’ said the Federation lawyer. She took a photograph from her file, and slid it across the table. ‘Your prints are indicated by the arrows.’

Mann looked at it for a minute and nodded.

‘My prints are about half way up, aren’t they?’ said Mann. Gorham said nothing, and nodded curtly. ‘For the benefit of the tape’ said Mann, ‘were my prints found about half way up the blade.’

‘Yes.’

It felt good to be the one asking the questions. ‘Now, continued Mann firmly, ‘do you have any more questions? If not I’d like to be released, or charged. Which is it to be?’

‘Oh we’re going to charge you all right Mr. Mann’ said Gorham, ‘and then we’re going to recommend that bail is refused. Don’t think because you killed a man with your bare hands rather than with a weapon that makes a conviction any less likely. In fact, the opposite is the case.’

‘Bollocks’ said Ian Mann. For a brief moment it actually made him feel better. And he doubted that he’d think too much about Wishaw from now on either.

Easter Sunday, 31st March

Ray Dixon was glad to get some time on his own at last. The scan had come back clear, his headache had almost gone, although the back of his head was still sore to the touch. So Dixon didn’t touch it, and that seemed to work well. The previous evening the Chief had come and sat with him for half an uncomfortable hour, and that morning Gorham and some bright-eyed young DC from HQ had been round to take a statement. Dixon was just going through his answers again in his head when there was a knock at the door and Ian Mann walked in. His left arm was in a cast.

‘I thought you were inside?’ said Dixon, trying to sit up without letting his head touch the pillows behind him. It wasn’t easy.

‘There’s no prison that can hold me Ray, you know that.’ Neither man laughed.

‘Gory Gorham’s been round already, to take a statement.’