Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7) (23 page)

‘Why does everyone assume that I need protecting?’

‘I saw you trying to move that chest of draws at the weekend, Andy.’

‘It was heavy, I told you.’

‘You did. All right, I’ll drop Ian an email and ask him to pick you up in the morning. Satisfied?’

‘Thanks. But there was something else, connected to the Pearson death.’

‘Hold on, love. That’s going no-crime, Andy, as sure as eggs.’

‘But it hasn’t yet, has it? And I expect you saw Keith’s report, from when he and Ian were following Taylor.’

‘He met some Council bloke. So what?’

‘We think that he’s the one who’s been feeding info to Taylor, who in turn has been getting Tiffany Moore to do the robberies.’

‘Evidence?’

‘Plenty. Keith checked, and the bloke had accessed the files of all the victims. So it all fits, doesn’t it? Taylor lends money or something to Tiffany, or more likely the mum, and then threatens her, bullies her or whatever, until she does the jobs for him.’

 

Jane was smiling as he spoke, so Hall decided to push his luck.

‘I want to have this bloke, Eric Graham he’s called, brought in. He’s got no previous, so he’ll tell us everything he knows, no matter how scared he is of Taylor.’

‘Absolutely not. No way. Christ on a bike, Andy. Taylor is still my prime suspect, even if you have managed to muddy the waters so comprehensively, and I’m not having him alerted to our surveillance because you start leaning on this Graham character. What’s to stop him warning Taylor off? Ian was the only one of our officers who managed to do his bloody job properly, and I’ve got a full team on the bloke now.’

‘You’ve stood down the surveillance on Winder and Tyson?’

‘Of course I have. And why would you care, anyway? You’re chucking Matt Somes’ name into the ring now.’

‘Hardly. Just having a word, that’s all. So that’s a definite no on Graham, is it?’

Hall smiled hopefully, but unadvisedly.

‘What? You’re going to go over my head if I keep say no, is that it?’

‘No, no, of course not. OK, understood.’

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Jane got up and started collecting up the plates.

‘I’ll do it. You’ve had a long day,’ said Hall.

‘And who’s fault is that?’ She bashed cutlery and crockery in her haste to get the job done.

‘If you’re sure. I thought I might pop out for a stroll. Clear my head a bit.’

Jane looked up at him. They usually went for a walk together after supper.

‘You look tired,’ said Hall, by way of explanation.

‘Bugger off then.’

‘I won’t be long.’

 

Hall walked down from their estate and into the town centre. It was busy, and that was something he liked to see. He pretended that he didn’t have any particular destination in mind, but he did, and when he reached the new flats down by the river he stopped and reached for his phone.

‘Keith? It’s Andy Hall. Can you spare me ten minutes? I’m outside, so right now would be good if you’re free.’

 

The two men walked along the riverside path, and Hall told Iredale what Jane had said.

‘I’m sorry, but in Jane’s position I’d have done the same’ said Hall, when he’d finished.

‘But Taylor had sod all to do with Frankie Foster’s death, sir. We both know that.’

‘I don’t. He had a motive, didn’t he? And what about those shotgun cartridges?’

‘Planted by the killer.’

‘That’s a possibility, certainly. But who would want to do that?’

‘Loads of people. Me, for a start. I’d love to see Taylor off the streets for a long time. The bloke’s a cancer, isn’t he?’

‘I wouldn’t argue with that, and for what it’s worth I agree with you that it’s undoubtedly Taylor who’s getting Tiffany to commit these offences. But we just have to leave it alone, for now at least.’

‘And what if someone else dies?’

‘You think that Tiffany killed Mrs. Pearson? Pushed her down the stairs?’

‘No, I don’t. But something like that could happen again, that’s all I’m saying. There’s a risk, that’s all.’

‘I hear you, Keith, I really do. But that’s it, I’m afraid. I just wanted to tell you in person.’

‘I appreciate you taking the time, sir, but it’s just bloody typical of the job, is this. You try to make a difference and you get the bloody rug pulled out from under you. It’s not worth it, and that’s a fact.’

 

They walked on in silence. It was dusk now, Hall’s least favourite time of day, even in summer.

‘It doesn’t matter anyway, sir’ said Keith, eventually. ‘I’m jacking the job in. Taking a job out at Sellafield.’

Hall didn’t seem surprised. But then, in Iredale’s experience, he never did.

‘I heard they were recruiting. Good money too, I hear.’

‘Aye, and regular hours. You could set your bloody atomic clock by them, they say.’

‘I can certainly see the attraction.’

‘Ian can’t.’

Hall smiled.

‘I’m not surprised. Good DCs are hard to find, and you’ve got a really promising future ahead of you, if you stay. Tell you what, how’s this for an offer? If we get Taylor nicked for organising these robberies, would you reconsider?’

‘Aye, sir. I would. But it’s not going to happen now, is it? The DI was very clear, by the sounds of it.’

‘She was, Keith, she was. But things might change, mightn’t they?’

‘I don’t see how.’

Hall stopped, and looked straight at Iredale. ‘You can’t? Well, I’d better be going, anyway. I hadn’t noticed the time. I can cut through this way, if that’s all right.’

‘Aye, sir, that’s fine. You get off, and thanks for taking the trouble. Goodnight, then.’

Iredale stood and watched Hall walk away. He was thinking about why Hall had bothered to seek him out, and he didn’t have to think for long.

‘You clever, sneaky old bastard’ he said, but not until Hall had almost disappeared from sight.

Wednesday, 30th July

 

 

Ian Mann didn’t say much as he drove, but that wasn’t unusual. But Hall didn’t talk much either, and that was.

‘You’ve got that internal enquiry later today haven’t you, Andy?’

‘How did you know? That’s supposed to be confidential.’

They both laughed. Keeping secrets from cops was about as likely as keeping the sand from your sandwiches on Walney beach.

‘You worried about it?’ asked Mann. ‘Word is that the ACC is for the chop. You’re a witness for the prosecution, I imagine. That must be tough.’

‘I’m trying not to think about it, to tell you the truth.’

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s OK. If I’m honest I’m not worried about Thompson, because I’ve got a feeling that he’ll come out of this fine. People like him know how to play the system, don’t they? And I don’t think they’re planning to try to drop me in it, but you never know, do you? If some senior officers worked as hard at protecting the public as they do at protecting themselves then the rest of us would be out of a bloody job. Anyway, how are you?’

 

Mann shrugged, and his right shoulder rubbed up against the door frame. He needed a bigger car, but he wouldn’t hear of changing his old Ford.

‘You know, much the same as always. Nothing changes. That’s how I like it, mind.’

‘Good.’

‘I wouldn’t mind getting this one squared away, though. Jane must be really feeling the pressure.’

‘She is.’ Hall had an almost overwhelming urge to confide in Mann, but he resisted, as he invariably did. ‘So how’s the team getting on?’

Mann glanced at him sharply. ‘You know about Keith, then?’

‘Yes. He told me last night. Says he’s jacking it in.’

‘Shit. I was hoping he’d change his mind. What was the context of this confession to uncle Andy, like?’

‘I told him that Jane wouldn’t sanction him picking up that Graham bloke, because of the connection to Jez Taylor. It’s understandable enough, in the circumstances. She doesn’t want him spooked.’

‘Taylor hasn’t killed anyone. The bloke’s a coward, like all bullies.’

‘I agree.’

 

They drove in companionable silence for a while, while Mann thought about what Hall had just said. ‘And you told Keith this in person, did you?’

‘Yes, it seemed to be for the best. And on the positive side he did say that he’d think again about leaving if we manage to nick Taylor for his part in the robberies.’

‘And you think that’s likely, do you?’

‘Oh, yes. Very likely indeed, I’d say.’

‘But I thought Jane told you to keep clear.’

‘She did, yes. But you know what really committed coppers are like, Ian. Sometimes they do what’s right, not just what the bosses say.’

‘And because he’s leaving anyway you reckon that he’ll just do the right thing?’

‘Possibly.’

‘And because of that he’ll decide to stay.’

‘If it works out as I hope it will then yes, I do.’

‘You’re a sneaky bastard, Andy Hall.’

‘You’re not the first person to say that.’

Mann laughed, and punched the steering wheel. It flexed under his hand. ‘And I won’t be the last, I dare say. So what do you reckon to this Somes lad? Could he actually be a contender?’

‘You know better than to ask that, Ian. Just covering the bases, that’s all. Trying to help out a bit.’

 

 

Mann drove fast but safely up over the Kirkstone Pass, and then down to the valley below. Hall always enjoyed that first view of Brotherswater, shining silver in the sun. Just before Glenridding Mann turned up a track, and they parked in a farmyard. A couple of dogs ran to the car, but Mann swung his door open anyway, and Hall followed suit. A tall young man emerged from a barn. He had a dead animal, a rabbit or hare, in his hand.

‘You the cops?’

‘Aye’ said Mann, showing his Warrant Card and introducing himself and Hall.

‘You’re the one who talked to me mam?’

‘That’s right’ said Hall.

‘Leave her alone, you hear? She can’t tell you owt about owt, can she?’

Hall nodded and pointed at the hanging animal in Somes’ right hand. ‘Dinner?’

‘Aye. Jugged hare. There’s nowt quite like it.’

‘Did you shoot it?’

‘No. One of the lads did, and he left it for me.’

‘Do they box, at this time of year?’

‘No, that’s the spring, like. Loads of them in Martindale. I don’t know if this is true, but someone told me that it’s not really the males boxing with each other, to have first go with a female, but the females trying to keep off the males that they don’t fancy. It’s mixed boxing, see. They put up a right good fight, either way. I can tell you that, like.’

 

‘We wanted to talk to you about Frankie Foster’ said Hall. ‘Your mum seems pretty bitter about him. About what he did to your family.’

‘Like I said, she don’t know owt. Me dad loved it out here though, by all accounts. He was a shepherd too, you know. So was me grand-dad, and his dad too, I shouldn’t wonder. It’s a shit job, like, the money’s crap and the prospects are non-existent, but I do love it. I don’t know why. Just can’t help myself, somehow. They say me dad loved it too. Won his share of fell races and all, when he was my age. Of course I don’t remember any of that. And it’s all ancient history anyway, isn’t it? No-one cares. And don’t take any notice of what my mum says about Frankie, he’s not to blame for what happened to dad.’

‘But he grassed on your dad and the others, didn’t he?’

‘Oh aye. He did that, all right. But he’d have been better off keeping his mouth shut and just doing the time, with the rest. Everyone round here knew what he did, see. I was surprised he ever came back, to tell the truth. But I suppose he had nowhere else to go, in the end.’

‘So you don’t blame Foster for your dad’s death?’

‘Oh aye, of course I do. But not just him. It was John Tyson who got my dad involved, told him it would be easy money, like. And he got that just a bit wrong, didn’t he? You know that my dad never saw these fells again, not after they all got nicked. He talked to me about it, that last time up here, when I visited him not long before he died. How the frost looked on the trees the last time he was up here, and how silent everything was when the snow came down. First big fall of the winter it was, that day. The day before they did the job, like.’

‘What were you doing, last Tuesday?’

‘Same as every day. Working, up here.’

‘Did anyone see you?’

‘Maybe the odd walker, I don’t know. Oh, aye, the folks renting the Bungalow, they saw me.’

‘What time was this?’

‘Mid-morning, about nine. Half-past. I start at six, remember.’

‘How about your mobile? Did you make or receive any calls? Send any emails?’

‘No. There’s no signal. You’re unreachable up there, like.’

‘Are you sorry that Frankie Foster is dead?’

 

Somes held up the hare by its back legs. ‘No more than that this is. Less, probably. It just doesn’t matter.’

‘Do you have any idea who might have killed Frankie then? How about John Winder?’

Somes looked genuinely surprised. ‘John? No, of course not. He’s the only one who came out of it all well, isn’t he? He’s a good bloke, is John. Never grassed, did he? Got me this job on the estate, he did, and he bought me my pick-up. Brand new it was, too.’

‘Why did he do that?’

‘You’d have to ask him that. But he can afford it. And I’m not the only one round here that he’s helped, mind.’

‘How about Tyson then?’

Somes shrugged. ‘Search me, like.’

‘You’re not being very helpful.’

‘I don’t know owt, that’s why. But one thing I will say is that Frankie wasn’t a saint. He might have been up to all sorts.’

‘Like what?’

‘You’re the coppers. But that’s all I’m saying. My dad was no grass, and I’m not, neither.’

‘So why did you talk to us at all?’

‘So you’d leave my mum alone. We’re nowt to do with any of this. What happened to my dad was his fault, when you get right down to it. He could have said no to that bloody robbery, and if he had he could be here now, with me, couldn’t he? None of this would even have happened, if he’d been out here, like.’

 

‘He was surprisingly chatty’ said Hall, as they were driving back up the steep, winding section of the pass.

‘He just wants us off his back.’

‘Probably. Do you reckon he’s worth closer attention?’

‘No, not really. Do you?’

‘No, I don’t. But we need to try to check his movements for last Tuesday, and his mum’s too. From all this to Strangeways, that’s a heck of a bloody journey that his dad took. And all because John Tyson opened up on a closed bank with that gun. It was all so utterly pointless, really.’

‘You know it was him who fired? Tyson?’

‘I’m pretty sure. He admitted it to me, anyhow, and I can’t see why he’d lie. Maybe the kid’s right. Maybe Tyson is the one that he and his mum should blame. But she’s way past blaming anyone, except herself of course.’

‘The kid seems to be reasonably sorted, considering.’

‘Exactly what I thought. He’s got his whole life ahead of him. So let’s hope he’s played no part in this. I bloody hate it when I see a new generation repeating the mistakes of the last.’

‘So you’re hoping that none of your kids will follow you into this job then, Andy?’

They both laughed.

‘You’ve never said a truer word, mate. I sometimes wish that I’d done something else, all these years.’

‘Like what?’

‘That’s the trouble. I’ve got no bloody idea. Rock star might have been nice, but I’m not sure I could manage all those late nights. Not these days, anyhow.’

 

 

The desk Sergeant sounded like he didn’t give a shit when Keith called in and said he’d be late for his shift. He didn’t even ask why. Iredale didn’t feel remotely guilty, because he owed Cumbria Constabulary nothing, and in any case he was working. He just wasn’t where he was supposed to be, or doing what he’d been told to do, that’s all. But what’s the worst that could happen?

 

It had taken him a bit of time to track down Eric Graham, because he wasn’t at the office, and he wasn’t where he’d told his boss that he’d be either. But the cafe in Kendal where he was sitting having breakfast was one of Iredale’s favourites, so he ordered at the counter and walked over to the table where Graham was sitting. He looked up, surprised, in mid-mouthful, because most of the other tables were vacant, and he looked properly frightened when he saw Iredale’s Warrant Card.

‘Ask me to join you, there’s a good bloke.’

‘Aye, aye. Sit yourself down.’

Iredale sat, and looked across the table at Graham. He was a pale man of about forty. Or at least, he was a pale man now.

‘I expect you’re wondering why I’m here.’

‘Aye’ said Graham, cautiously.

‘And I’m alone. You see that, don’t you?’

‘Aye.’

‘Don’t worry, Eric, it wasn’t a trick question. We normally travel in pairs, when something is important.’

‘So this isn’t important?’

‘Oh aye, very important. You’re going to lose your job soon, and there’s nowt I can do about that. You’ve brought that on yourself, like. But I’m giving you a choice. Right here and now. And this is strictly a one time offer. You can either choose to be a witness, in which case you won’t go to prison, or you can be in the dock. And then you’ll be sent down for a good few years. I don’t think you’d like prison, Eric. It’s nothing like as much fun as it looks on the TV.’

‘But it doesn’t look like fun on TV.’

‘Exactly. It’d be a living hell for a sensitive man like you. Living every day in fear. That’s the thing about prison, it’s full to the bloody rafters with criminals. Nasty, violent men. There’s absolutely no reasoning with most of them. Still, you’re not going to prison, are you?’

‘I hope not.’

 

The chef brought out Iredale’s breakfast, and he thanked him for it.

‘This looks great’ he said to Graham. ‘Let’s get stuck in.’

Iredale ate, but Graham didn’t.

‘Lost your appetite? I’m not surprised. So you know what this is all about, I assume?’

‘No. Not really.’

Iredale took another bite, and washed it down with some tea.

‘That’s the wrong answer, I’m afraid. Because either you’re involved with more than one criminal enterprise, in which case you really are in the shit, or you’re reluctant to talk about the one that I’m here to talk to you about. So you really have to ask yourself one simple question, Eric. Who are you more frightened of, me and all that I represent, or a stupid bastard like Jez Taylor? So,once again, do you know what this is all about? Now that I’ve given you a little clue, like.’

‘Aye, I do. But he forced me to tell him, honest.’

‘Forced you how?’

Graham hesitated, so Iredale enjoyed another forkful as he waited. It really was a superb cooked breakfast.

‘I’d rather not say.’

‘Not an option, I’m afraid.’

‘All right. I had a bit of thing with a client, you know. But she owed Taylor money, so…’

‘Blackmail?’

‘Aye.’

‘That’s good.’

‘How?’

‘Mitigation, for you. When it comes to trial.’

‘Who said anything about a trial?’

‘So you gave Taylor the details of likely targets for robbery, is that right?’

‘Aye, I suppose so, but like I say…’

‘Do you know who carried them out?’

‘No. I’ve just seen on the news. Some girl, it was.’

 

Iredale ate in silence for a few minutes. ’All right.’ Iredale pushed away his plate. ‘Now this is the bit that matters. You know the phrase, ‘helping Police with their enquiries?’’

‘Aye, of course.’

‘Well that’s what you’re going to do now. Do this right and I’m going to do everything I can to help you, Eric, I really am. So, here’s the question. When you met with Taylor in town did you give him more names?’

‘Aye, three new ones, but he was only interested in one.’

‘Who was that?’

‘An old man called Anthony Williams, a retired antiques dealer. Moved up here from London a few years ago. His house is full of nice stuff, apparently.’

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