Riddled on the Sands (The Lakeland Murders) (19 page)

‘Nice one, Andy. I’ll try that. That way we get access to his whole email trail, without him sharing it with us. I’m not sure how helpful Perkins will be when I ask, of course, the little prat, but it’s worth a shot.’

‘How about the other fire? Is there any connection with Gary O’Brian, do you think?’

‘Very unlikely, I’d say. As far as I can see there’s no connection between them at all. And there’s no forensic link either. Like I told you, Gary had the bloody lot cleared away sharpish.’

‘Yes, and I’ve been thinking about that. It is out of character, like you said, but maybe he is concerned about his kids. In his situation I’d have done just the same, when my kids were small. What was left of his garage after the fire was unsafe, I take it?’

‘I think it was unsafe before the fire started.’

Hall laughed. ‘Point taken.  And Perkins has had no more letters, nothing to concern us?’

‘No, nothing. Are you thinking of bringing me back onto the Bell killing?’

‘Part-time, yes. Capstick’s obviously involved, but he’s showing no sign of cracking.’

‘I thought you said he was weak?’

‘He’s that all right, but it’s the old story. He’s more frightened of someone else than he is of us. And probably with good reason. The Super is going to go mental when she sees what I’ve spent on this investigation already, and it’s only a matter of time before she tells me to scale it back. So I just need something to happen. We’ll turn up no forensic evidence, because I’m certain that Capstick wasn’t a shooter, and the locus is a total wash-out, pun intended. And given that our drugs team seem to know nothing about anything very much we’re unlikely to be able to work back at this from the other end. And in fairness, it might not even be drugs anyway. So all we can do is hammer away at Capstick, and try to find his local connection. I’m convinced there is one. Has to be.’

‘That’s a bit assumption, though, isn’t it?’

‘Colossal, and Val Gorham will know that. So we’ll need to get round all Casptick’s KAs as fast as we can, before she pulls the plug.’

‘Very funny.’

‘What is?’

‘The Super pulling the plug.’ Hall still didn’t smile. ‘When I was a little kid I asked my dad where the water went when the tide went out, and he said down a plughole.’

‘Not everything our parents tell us is true though, is it?’

 

 

Ian Mann was looking forward to seeing Pete Capstick again. He doubted that the feeling was mutual.

‘Do you want Geoff Atkinson there or not?’ Hall had asked, and Mann hadn’t hesitated.

‘No, just me and Ray.’

To his surprise Hall had just nodded agreement, and Mann wasn’t complaining about that. Because the earlier that they got away and on their way to Flookburgh the sooner they could put the pressure on Capstick again.

 

Mann drove, because he didn’t want to dawdle along at Dixon’s economy run pace, and they talked about the case as they drove.

‘How do you want to play it today, Ian?’

‘Bad cop, worse cop.’

‘Seriously, mate? I was thinking about a change of strategy. You just be yourself, and I’ll be like keeping the beast, that’s you obviously, in check. Try to chummy up to him a bit. You know, be his best mate for an hour. Atkinson won’t be there this time, so there’s definitely a vacancy.’

Mann laughed dryly. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t think that Capstick is in on this? There’s no doubt, mate. I hate this kind of job, when we know bloody well that someone’s dirty, and we can’t touch them for it.’

‘Of course he’s dirty. But he couldn’t be more out of his depth, could he? The boss is right. Capstick got mixed up in something he didn’t understand. He never intended for Bell to be shot. Of course he didn’t. And we’ve tried pressurising him, with the one bit of real evidence that we’ve got, and it got us nowhere.’

Mann grunted.

‘And could we stop at the bakers in Grange, mate?’ added Dixon. ‘I could murder a steak pie.’

‘At this time in the morning? All right, as long as you don’t eat it in my car. I don’t want bits of your half-chewed pastry on the carpets, and the bloody smell of your gravy to be hanging about for weeks.’

‘Fair enough. I like a bit of
al fresco
dining, me.’

‘Let’s hope this weather lasts until you’ve retired then, Ray. You’ll be doing nothing else.’

‘Aye, exactly, that’s what I’m afraid of. But I’m still hoping that they might keep me on.’

‘Really, mate, is that wise? I’m sure that everyone, from the Chief downwards, would like nothing more than to have you with us until you’re ninety, but they haven’t got a bloody penny. Some good coppers have been made redundant, mate, so maybe it’s time to count your blessings, eh?’

Dixon nodded sadly. ‘I’ll certainly have the time for it.’

 

 

Geoff Atkinson was out of his house before Mann even had a chance to get the handbrake on.

‘Look out’ said Dixon, ‘guess who’s here.’

‘All right, Geoff’ said Mann, swinging open his door.

‘All right, boys? He’s in all right. Got back from the pub at about one.’

‘Thanks for the heads-up.’

‘Shall I come in with you? Might help keep him calm, like.’

‘No mate, you’re all right. The boss asked us to take this one on our own.’

‘Change of tack, is it?’

‘Aye, that’s right. Try to change things around a bit.’

‘So no new developments, then?’

‘Like what?’

‘Just asking, Ian. I’ll leave you to it then.’

‘Aye, great, thanks. We’ll come and knock after, maybe have a brew.’

‘I might not be in.’

‘Of course not. Don’t stay in on our account. But we’ll knock anyway, all right?’

 

When Atkinson had gone back into his house and closed his front door, Ray Dixon knocked on Capstick’s door. They expected a long wait, but this time there wasn’t one.

‘What is it this time?’ said Capstick. He was dressed, and it looked as if he’d showered. He didn’t smell of booze either.

‘A few more questions, I’m afraid’ said Ray. He sounded genuinely apologetic. Mann was impressed.

 

‘Sorry if I’ve been out of it the last few days’ said Capstick, when they were sitting in his living room. It smelt as if someone had aired the place thoroughly since they’d last been there. ‘But you know it is, the shock like. But I understand now, it wasn’t my fault. I’m not to blame for any of what’s happened.’

Mann wondered if Dixon would follow-up on that, and he did.

‘It’s good you’ve been talking it through, mate. That’s a great idea. Who have you been talking to, the vicar was it?’

‘No, not him. I don’t really know the bloke. I don’t go to church anyway.’

‘Got you. So who was it then?’

Capstick looked absolutely wide awake. ‘Just a mate. Look, what’s it got to do with you? I want to get out to my nets in an hour, so can we get on with it? Though I’ve got no bloody idea what there is left for you to ask me.’

‘I agree’ said Dixon, smiling. ‘I can’t see the point either. But it’s our boss. He’s certain you’re mixed up what happened to Jack Bell, and it’s all because of that call you made to that sat-phone. Sorry, but that’s how it is.’

‘I told you, it wasn’t me. I don’t know anything about all that. I’ve done nothing wrong.’

Dixon held up his palms. ‘Sorry, and we won’t be long this time, I promise. I just need a list of everyone you’ve met up with, or have seen in the last few weeks.’

‘Why?’

‘I’ll level with you. I shouldn’t, but I will. It’s because our boss has got this theory that someone you know is the connection between you and what happened to Jack Bell. It’s crazy, I know, but there it is, mate. There’s no telling the DI when he’s got an idea into his head, is there, Sarge?’

Mann grunted assent.

‘So, let’s go through them, shall we? How about folk from the village? Why don’t we start with the pub?’

 

Twenty minutes later Dixon had almost fifty names in his book, over forty were men, and all but a couple were local.

‘Tell me about these two lads here, Mike Skelton and Paul English. Where do you know them from?’

Mann had never watched a suspect closer in his life, but a far as he could see Capstick didn’t tense up when Dixon returned to those two names.

‘I used to go drinking in Kendal, years ago. Went to the nightclub there, on the pull, like.’

‘And that’s where you met these two, is it?’

‘Aye, sort of. I met Mike through this girl I was seeing then, and Paul’s his mate. I took them out fishing a few times, and we still meet up. I take them out every once in a while, still.’

‘When was the last time?’

Capstick shrugged. ‘Not sure exactly, but it’d be a month or two at least.’

‘And was it both of them?’

‘No, just Mike. I’m not sure where Paul was the last time.’

‘And what do they do for work, these two?’

‘Paul’s a fitter at a truck repair place in Kendal, and Mike’s there too. They’ve worked there all the time I’ve known them, anyway.’

‘And how long’s that?’

‘Eight or ten years I suppose. Something like that.’

Dixon closed his notebook, and waited for Mann to take over. But he didn’t say a word.

‘Is that it, then?’ said Capstick eventually.

‘Aye, for now’ said Dixon, not sure how far he should let his good-guy persona slip. ‘But if there’s anyone you’ve forgotten, make sure you let us know, eh? I’ll leave you my card, OK? Just phone one of those numbers whenever you like, if anything comes back to you. Because it wouldn’t look good for you if we find that you’ve got a mate that you’re not telling us about. You can see that?’

‘Aye, I can see all sorts. And I know I’ve done nowt wrong. I’m not responsible for whatever happened to Jack. That’s just not down to me.’

 

 

Mann didn’t say much until they were five minutes from the station.

‘You heard what he said?’

‘That he’s not responsible for what happened. Aye, I heard’ said Dixon.

‘Aye.’

‘You think someone’s got into his head?’

‘I do. Clever too, whoever it is. They’ve figured out the best way to keep him quiet isn’t to threaten him, but convince him that what happened to Jack Bell isn’t his fault. It’s what he wants to believe anyway, so it wouldn’t have been hard to do.’

‘So that’s why you didn’t lean on him?’

‘Aye, that’s right. It just didn’t feel like the right time. I don’t think I’d have got through.’

 

Dixon was impressed. He’d never had Ian Mann down as a sensitive kind of copper, and he if he had developed shoulders that broad he probably wouldn’t have been either.

‘I reckon you made the right call. Let’s have a good look at these KAs when we get back.’

‘You mean those two lads from Kendal?’

‘Aye, them first. The names didn’t ring any bells with me though. Did they with you?’

‘No, can’t say they did. I have a vague memory that we did a bloke who worked there for fiddling tachographs, but that’s it.’

They drove in silence for a while.

‘I’m glad Atkinson wasn’t there, anyway’ said Dixon.

‘Oh aye?’

‘I don’t know, Ian, but I just don’t like the bloke. When he was in the job he had a reputation as a bit of a skiver, didn’t he? And now he just seems so bloody keen, somehow.’

‘It’s probably just retirement, mate. Does strange things to the brain. Or so I’ve heard.’

Dixon wished he’d bought another pie when they’d stopped in Grange on the way out. Not because he was hungry, but because he’d love to drop a load of tiny flakes of pastry all over the inside of Ian Mann’s precious Focus.

 

 

Andy Hall and Jane Francis left work at the same time that evening, and when they got home he poured her a glass of wine and she took the last of the olives through to the living room. For once the kids weren’t watching reality TV shows, the kind that made her leave the room, so she turned on the local news.

‘Andy, look at this. Quick.’

‘Just a sec. Crucial time here.’ She’d never known anyone take what he called cooking, and she called re-heating, quite so seriously.

Jane was laughing when Hall came in to the room. ‘Look who it is.’ Jane raised her finger to her lips. The interviewer was asking someone how much money had been raised so far.

‘Nearly five hundred pound’ said Gary O’Brian, ‘and there’s more to come in yet, like.’

‘And will that be enough to replace the children’s bicycles?’

‘Aye’ said Gary, a little doubtfully, ‘but any extra will go giving them a few nice days out over the holidays. To make up for the loss of their bikes, like. They loved them bikes.’

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