Hail and Farewell (The Lakeland Murders) (4 page)

‘DCI Hall does have a record of running successful investigations, but I don’t do favouritism. That’s just another word for cronyism, and that’s something I don’t have any time for. Because cronyism is a way of disguising prejudice, self-interest and lazy judgements. And the next step after cronyism is corruption.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind, ma’am.’ Smith paused. ‘If there’s nothing else, I’ve got an investigation to run. At least for now, anyway.’

Sunday, 20th April

Jane Francis had been sitting in casualty for what felt like hours. She glanced at her watch. She was right: it was hours. She was bored, but she was beginning to feel certain that her decision not to tell Andy just to man up after he’d fallen off his bike had been a good one. She had been tempted though, and she might even have hinted at it as an idea. His knee had been pretty swollen by the time that they’d arrived at A&E though, and he barely smiled when she’d said that his new fitness regime had got off to a bad start. But since he’d fallen off within fifty yards of the house that was, quite literally, true.

When he was brought back out in a wheelchair she thought that he had a bit of an ‘I told you so’ expression on his face, although he was always hard to read, even now.

‘Sorry I was so long. They had to call the consultant in to see if I needed an op right away.’

‘And do you?’

‘No. I’ve got to rest it up for a week or two, and then they’ll do another scan and decide.’

‘So you’ve got to keep of it completely?’

‘Yes. I’m sorry to load you up with extra work.’

She didn’t mind that at all, so long as it was his was investigative case work that he was talking about.

‘Don’t worry. That will be fine. Let’s just concentrate on getting you better.’

‘Thanks, but we are a bit short of food, so you might need to pop out later.’

And so, as they made their way out to the car Jane pushed the wheelchair just a little bit faster than was absolutely necessary.

Hall’s phone rang before they were half way home.

‘DCI Hall.’ Jane turned to him, hoping that it was work. It obviously was. ‘Yes, ma’am, I see. But I’m afraid I’m not going to be much use to anyone for the next few days. I’ve damaged my knee rather badly, so I’m going to be laid up at home until the swelling goes down a bit.’ Hall listened again, took the phone away from his ear and made a V-sign at it. Jane laughed, as quietly as she could. ‘Yes, ma’am, it is inconvenient, but I do have a suggestion. I may not be able to travel out to Workington but I can still use a computer and a phone, so why don’t I manage the case from home?’ He listened again. ‘I’ll try not to let you down, ma’am, and thank you for saying so. But I agree with you that DI Smith and DS Hodgson can’t take any further active part in this investigation. They’re just too close to what happened, in every sense. So I’d like to suggest that DS Mann and DS Francis run the investigation on the ground.’

It was a long time before Hall spoke again. ‘So you need a recommendation as to who should be acting SIO, ma’am? Well, Ian is the more senior officer in terms of experience and time in post.’ Jane braked a little harder than she needed to as she approached the next roundabout. ACC Gorham was obviously saying something now, and Jane held her breath. ‘I agree, Jane has all of the attributes that you’ve noted, but you do know that we are in a relationship? Jane is driving me home from hospital now, in fact. So I’m hardly objective on this point, and that’s something that Ian will be all too aware of. But ultimately it’s your decision, and if you’re happy for me to make that clear to both officers, then I have nothing further to say. They’re both outstanding detectives, and either would do an excellent job.’ Hall listened again. ‘I’ve got absolutely no doubt that they will work together in harmony, ma’am. They’re both highly professional officers, and Jane will make a first-class SIO.’

Jane drove like God’s chauffeur until they reached home, and Andy told her what he knew about the case. ‘Gorham has arranged for you and Ian to attend a team briefing in the morning, the Super at Workington knows you’re coming already, and facilities are sorting out a hotel for you both. So you’re all set.’

‘Fantastic.’ She reached across and took his hand. ‘But will you be all right, Andy?’

‘Of course. It’ just a twisted knee, at the end of the day. Bloody painful though.’

‘Of course it is. Bound to be, love. When we get inside you rest up and I’ll go and do that shopping, how’s that? Maybe I’ll get you a few treats.’

‘Don’t do that, for Christ’s sake. The whole idea of this was to lose weight, not put it on.’

‘We’ll see. And you’ll phone Ian while I’m out, will you?’

‘Yes, I will. At least he can’t come round and duff me up, what with me being injured and everything.’

‘Do you honestly think it would make any difference to the outcome, even if you were fighting fit?’

‘No, of course not. I just meant he wouldn’t hit a wounded man. That would run completely counter to his whole code of honour.’

She couldn’t tell if Hall was hurt by her comment about his lack of physical prowess or not. She thought he probably was.

‘Come on, let’s get you inside and settled in bed. I expect you’ll have read and memorised the entire case file by the time I get back from the shops. I don’t know about your knee, but there’s not too much wrong with your brain, Andy Hall. And it’s the sexiest bit of the body. Everyone knows that.’

‘I bet you say that to all the boys.’

‘Hardly. I’m a copper, remember.’

They both laughed, although Hall stopped and winced as he tried to get out of the car. He couldn’t quite remember when he could take his next painkiller, but it couldn’t come soon enough.

As soon as Jane had gone he phoned Ian Mann. He started by telling him about his accident and Mann tried, briefly, to sound sympathetic. And then he told Hall a particularly grisly story about something that had happened to a mate of his during the first Gulf war. Hall wasn’t entirely sure how it was supposed to make him feel better, and it most certainly didn’t.

‘But that’s not why I called, Ian.’

‘Oh, aye. What’s the craic then?

‘I’ve had the ACC on the phone, wanting us to take on that death at Uppies and Downies on Friday.’

‘I heard about that. What a shame. It’s just a bit of harmless fun, usually.’

‘Compared to what? Nuclear war?’

Mann laughed. ‘Well, I thought so, anyway.’

‘So you’ve played?’

‘Oh aye, three or four times. When I was a bit younger, like. Really enjoyed it too.’

‘But you’re Kendalian. How do you know if you’re an Uppie or a Downie? I thought it was handed down from father to son.’

‘That doesn’t matter. Not really. Me and a couple of mates just used to rock up and ask around and find out which side was weakest that year, then we played for them. I had the chance to hail the ball once, but I passed it to one of the local lads. They get to keep it, see.’

‘So you’re up for a trip up there to work the case? The ACC has stood the DI and the DS in Workington down, because they were in the scrum when it happened. So they might be tempted to call it accidental she reckons, just to avoid any repercussions.’

‘Shit.’

‘Exactly. But in fairness they had a tip that the two local underworld chiefs had their lads settling their differences in the game on Friday. That’s why they were there, or so they say.’

‘Last man standing was it, that sort of thing?’

‘More or less.’

‘So who’s SIO, if the dynamic duo have been stood down, like?’

Hall hesitated. He’d expected the question, but he needed to re-frame his answer.

‘I’m taking charge managerially, so the strategic input will come from me. That should also help us keep DI Smith safely in his box, since I out-rank him.’

‘Aye, but who’ll be taking charge on the ground? Is a DI coming over from HQ? Not one of the sodding paper-pushers I hope.’

‘No, not that. It’s going to be Jane.’

The pause was long, and ominous, even by Mann’s standards.

‘For fuck’s sake, Andy. What genius came up with that decision? Don’t tell me it was you.’

‘No, it was the ACC. I told her that you were the more experienced officer, and then she told me her decision.’

‘And you just rolled over?’

‘I told her that either of you would do a good job, and that you were the more senior and experienced officer, but she had obviously made her mind up.’

‘The bloody girls’ club again then, is it?’

Hall started to laugh, and then realised that Mann wasn’t joking.

‘Come on, mate. The force isn’t exactly known as a feminist collective, is it?’

‘It’s bloody going that way.’

Hall paused for a moment. Mann was calming down. He could hear it in his voice.

‘But you’ll be all right? With Jane acting up as SIO?’

‘With your live-in girlfriend telling me what to do, you mean. Aye, it’ll be reet. It’ll just bloody have to be now, won’t it?’

‘I appreciate it. And the fact that you’ve played the game before has to be a good thing. I’ll let Jane know.’

‘Just as long as I’m not expected to go undercover again, Andy. Because you know what happened last time.’

‘I do. And if I remember rightly there are some fairly tall buildings in west Cumbria, just perfect for you to throw a couple more people off.’

‘Very funny. And so me and Jane need to get out there in the morning?’

‘Yes. If you want to come round here you can drive up together.’ Hall paused for a moment. ‘I expect Jane will expect to ride in the back, though.’

This time Mann did laugh.

‘I hope your leg falls off, you bastard.’

Monday, 21st April

DC Keith Iredale had driven in to work feeling like he had a hangover, and a bad one at that. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, perhaps it was the take-aways that he’d shared with the team at work; probably it was a bit of both. But either way he was knackered, and the last thing he wanted was for the DI to call him into his office as soon as he got in. But that’s precisely what happened.

‘How you doing, son?’

‘Still collating witness statements, sir. I’m going as fast as I can.’

‘Of course you are. But that’s not what I meant. I meant how are you? In yourself, like?’

Iredale couldn’t have been more surprised by the question, and he searched in vain for the sub-text.

‘Fine, sir. Getting with the job, like.’

‘And you’re not too tired? Stressed out, anything like that?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Iredale was coming to the conclusion that he’d made a cock-up, and that he was about to get both barrels from the boss. He couldn’t think why, but he braced himself anyway. But Smith just smiled, and nodded.

‘You’re a good lad, a right good lad. Between us I’ve had the ACC on the phone again just now, saying I’ve been driving everyone too hard this last couple of days. I don’t know if I’ve been grassed up or she’s found out somehow, the scheming bitch. You know what she’s like.’

Iredale nodded, even though he had absolutely no idea what the ACC was like. He hadn’t even recognised her when she’d walked in on Saturday morning.

‘Anyway, it looks like I’m for the bloody high jump. I didn’t do all her precious paperwork right, and that’s the worst crime of all in the job these days, like. It’s scapegoating, of course it is, but what can you do?’

‘Sorry to hear that, boss.’

Smith looked hard at Iredale. ‘Aye, right. Thanks. But I do need a favour, Keith. You’re one of us, aren’t you?’

‘Aye, of course I am.’

‘You don’t want those bloody know-it-alls from HQ or Kendal telling us what’s what, like we’re the village bloody idiots?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘So will you keep me informed about how the investigation progresses, won’t you? When I get stood down, like. This is our patch, son, and we know it best, yeah?’

‘Aye, of course we do.’

‘So that’s agreed then?’

Iredale nodded. ‘So who’s the SIO going to be?’

‘I’m glad you asked. A bloody DS called Jane Francis. Only been in the job five minutes, but she’s the ACC’s golden girl. Which means that Gorham probably fancies her or something. And I bet her paperwork is always bang up-to-date too. But Andy Hall, that bloody DCI from Kendal, he’s in overall charge. But apparently he’s buggered up his knee falling off a pushbike, the daft sod. Pushbikes are for bloody kids, aren’t they? No offence, son.’

Iredale smiled encouragingly, but he never liked to hear about a fellow cyclist coming off. It had happened to him enough times.

Sandy Smith was already waiting for Jane Francis and Ian Mann when they arrived at Workington station. The journey up had been much more enjoyable - or at least much less tense - than either had expected, and more productive too. Because during the course of the drive they’d explored several possible lines of enquiry, and discussed the strengths and weaknesses of the investigation to date. And they’d arrived at very similar conclusions. So by the time they were dropping down the hill into Workington they both felt that the investigation would be a joint effort until, of course, the moment that they disagreed on something important.

‘Can we talk after the team meeting, Sandy?’ said Jane, when Sandy called out her name.

‘So the rumour’s true, Jane? You’re SIO for this one.’

‘Acting SIO. Andy’s still running the investigation.’

‘But from the fucking sofa. Fell off his bike, I hear, like a fucking nine year old.’

‘I’ll pass on your best wishes.’

Sandy smiled.

‘You do that. How’s he doing? Wanting his bloody pillows plumped every five seconds?’

‘Something like that.’

‘That’s men for you. Good thing you’re out here on the edge of the known universe, then.’

Jane wished that Sandy would keep her voice down, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She was small woman with a large larynx.

‘Right, who do you have to shag to get a proper coffee in this place?’