Death on High (The Lakeland Murders) Page 12

  ‘So how about more covert observation?’

  Hall laughed. ‘Are you seriously suggesting that you watch the congregation leaving their services through binoculars?’

  Jane wasn’t smiling. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s totally inappropriate, that’s why not Jane. So what else do you suggest, if you still want to follow-up on this?’

  ‘I suppose I could check the bars and restaurants near Tony’s office, and see if he’s been seen with anyone. Other than that sour-faced wife of his, of course.’

  ‘Yes, that sounds like a sensible plan. Can I leave it with you for a few days then? I need to get on top of all the fallout from last night’s events.’

  Saturday, 9th March

  Since Christmas Andy Hall had got into the habit of going walking with John Hamilton, whose daughter had been murdered a few months before, and who Hall had got to know during and after the investigation. The trial of Hamilton’s brother was due to start at the end of the month, but Hamilton knew better than to ask Hall anything about it. And Hall liked him, so going walking for a couple of hours when Hamilton suggested it was hardly a chore. It was a cloudy day, and cold with it, but the forecast was for it to stay dry.

  They’d settled into routine over the past few weeks. One would drive, the other would buy a pub lunch. And today it was Hamilton’s turn to drive, so he also got to choose the route and the lunch stop. They drove to Elterwater, and had an enjoyable if not especially strenuous stroll, and they were settled in at the pub by soon after noon. As usual they hadn’t chatted all that much as they’d walked, and as usual Hamilton asked how Hall was getting on since his wife, Carol, had left home.

  ‘Not too bad really John. The kids have been great, surprisingly helpful around the house considering. It’s as if everyone has been on their best behaviour. I expect it will wear off.’

  ‘And are the girls seeing much of your wife?’

  ‘Yes, but we don’t really talk about it. I’ve been careful not to say anything negative about her, because we get enough people through the station who do nothing but slag off their exes, and that leads to all sorts of trouble. And when they’re in the nick I always find myself wondering what effect it must be having on the kids, let alone themselves.’

  ‘So many people these days just don’t seem to be able to grow up.’

  ‘I know what you mean’ said Hall, ‘and our cells are always full of overgrown school-kids, but I can’t say I feel smug. In a way I was like that too, until this happened. I went from home to university, then to marriage and work, and Carol insulated me from lots of things.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like the fact that the world is really so random. That things happen over which we have absolutely no control. It’s just an illusion that we are in charge of our lives. Someone in my job really should have known that, but until Carol left somehow I didn’t really see it.’

  ‘Amen to that, brother. But having the kids at home must be making the transition easier?’

  ‘Yes, of course. It’s been a massive help. I honestly don’t know how I’d have coped if Carol had wanted them to live with her. Other than work every familiar aspect of my life would have been gone. I’m really not sure that I could have coped to be honest.’

  ‘It’s amazing how much pain we humans can take, believe me.’

  Hall looked away. He’d been insensitive. But Hamilton didn’t seem to mind, in fact he was smiling. ‘So how long before you stop coming walking with me?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘How long before you meet the next Mrs. Hall?’

  Hall laughed. ‘You must be joking John. The only women I meet are suspects or colleagues, and I don’t know which is less appealing.’

  ‘Really?’ Hamilton didn’t look convinced.

  Hall held his hands up. ‘It’s a fair cop as they say. I must admit I’ve been looking at something recently, and I was drawn to a woman at the centre of it, but it would have been very unwise to get involved. Very unwise.’

  Hamilton was too tactful to probe further.

  ‘What about at work then?’

  ‘I refer your honour to my previous reply’ said Hall, reaching for his drink.

  Jane Francis had a long lie-in, or at least as long as she could bear, ate a leisurely breakfast, and then set off on her tour of the bars and restaurants of Kendal at around noon. She started with the ones nearest Tony Harrison’s office, and drew a total blank. He’s been seen in several, but only with his wife in some, and with Ed Willis and usually one or more other people in others. Jane assumed that these would have been clients.

  She’d been doing the job long enough to know that persistence usually pays, eventually, so she widened her net, calling on any establishment that looked as if it might be architect-friendly and suitable for an extra marital tryst. That didn’t leave many, but it still took her until almost six to get them all done. She had nothing, not even the hint of a lead.

  Jane went home, kicked off her shoes and poured herself a glass of wine. She’d watched enough people drinking that day, and as she sat on the sofa, listening to rain running along the gutters, she thought about some of the couples she’d seen. Some were talking and laughing, some were just eating and drinking, and not saying much. And it was the second group that she found herself envying.

  As she grilled some chicken she thought about Tony Harrison again. Did the fact that she hadn’t found the slightest sign of him and his lady friend in public mean anything? Perhaps they were meeting elsewhere, well away from the town, which in turn meant that they were being extremely careful. Why might that be? Or perhaps they already had somewhere to meet, her place perhaps. If she was single that would be no problem these days. Jane thought that if she brought a different bloke home to her own place every night no-one locally would even notice.

  As she ate Jane decided that there really wasn’t enough evidence to draw any conclusion at all. But she wasn’t done with Vicky Harrison. And as she sat, draining her third and last large glass of wine, she decided what to do. Andy Hall might not like it, but it really was the only way.

  Later that evening Ian Mann forced himself to go round the pubs and clubs looking for Spedding. If he didn’t he knew it would look odd. Mann also knew that he was no actor, so he decided not to pretend that he was happy about Spedding’s attack on the guard. He’d checked the local news sites, and it had been extensively reported. There was even a picture of the woman, the side of her face all swollen up, on the front page of the local paper’s website. Mann tried not to look at it.

  He’d been round all of the pubs that Spedding usually went in and didn’t find him, so he tried a couple of more upmarket bars. Sure enough Spedding and a couple of his boys, Tom and Brian, were in there. Spedding was very drunk, and the other two weren’t far behind.

  ‘The very man’ said Spedding, as Mann approached. ‘Gary, what are you having?’

  ‘A beer would be good.’

  Tom Rigg got up and went to the bar.

  ‘I’ve got something for you’ said Spedding, whose speech was just beginning to slur. ‘You did well, very good. Nice job too, sweet as a nut.’

  ‘What are you talking about Joey? You battered that woman security guard.’ Mann raised his voice above the noise of the club.

  ‘What, feminist are we Gary? She asked for it anyway.’

  ‘How do you work that out?’ Mann didn’t bother hiding his anger, but Spedding didn’t seem remotely concerned about it.

  ‘Simple. When she saw us she could have just driven on by, and called it in like she should have. It’s what I would have done.’

  ‘Maybe she was trying to do her job right’ said Mann.

  Spedding looked at Mann. Suddenly he seemed quite a bit more sober.

  ‘Aye, mebbe she was. Anyway, no bones broken. Now, do you want paying, or should we send the cash to the widows and orphans or something?’

  Mann smiled, but his eyes didn’t.

&n
bsp; ‘Go on then.’

  ‘Rigg came back with the drinks, and passed Mann a beer. Spedding nodded at him and Rigg reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope and passed it to Mann.

  ‘Cheers’ Mann said, raising his glass.

  ‘I’m surprised you’re so squeamish’ said Spedding, ‘what with you having been a squaddie and all. I bet you’ve got a few tales to tell, eh?’

  ‘Aye, a few.’

  ‘Go on then, let’s hear some.’

  ‘Another time mebbe.’

  Spedding seemed to be becoming more sober by the second.

  ‘Go on, tell us some war stories. I bet you were in the SAS or some shit.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t. And another time, like I said.’

  Spedding shook his head.

  ‘It’s a funny thing’ he said, turning to his boys, ‘that Gary here doesn’t want to talk about his army days. You normally can’t shut old soldiers up, can you? So why’s that Gary, is it all bullshit then, eh?’

  ‘’course not. I was Marine for 12 years.’

  ‘I believe you Gary mate, though thousands wouldn’t. So the only other reason I can think of why you’re so quiet is because it makes you think about all the shit you’ve seen, and maybe all the shit you’ve done. Maybe you’ve seen women and children get killed, is that it?’

  Mann was surprised that Spedding was so perceptive, drunk or sober, but it didn’t make him like the bastard any more.

  ‘Thanks for the drink’ he said, draining his glass and getting up.

  ‘Hold up, what’s the rush?’ Spedding signaled for Mann to sit, so reluctantly he did.

  ‘I didn’t mean to pry, honest. All right Gary?’

  Mann nodded.

  ‘Good lad. Like I said, you did good the other night, and you shifted more than the other bloody weaklings. So how do you fancy something a bit bigger, shall we say?’

  ‘I’m up for it.’

  ‘A very appropriate expression Gary, isn’t it boys? ‘Up for it’, I like it.’

  Rigg laughed, and Mann waited for Spedding to explain.

  ‘How’s your head for heights?’

  ‘Not bad. I’ve made a few parachute jumps in my time.’

  Spedding nodded.

  ‘How about rope access? Abseiling, you know.’

  ‘Yeh, I know. I can do that.’

  Spedding nodded and held out his hand.

  ‘You’re a useful man to know Gary Benson, you really are. This one will take a bit of setting up, but I’ll be in touch. See you around meanwhile, yeh? Don’t be a stranger. I don’t trust strangers.’

  Mann got up, nodded to Spedding’s boys, and left. As he walked home he thought that it could have gone worse. He might have punched that bastard Spedding clean out of his seat, for a start.

  Sunday, 10th March.

  Jane Francis didn’t feel remotely guilty as she sat in her car opposite St James’s. She’d done as Andy Hall had asked and checked all the likely meeting places, and come up with nothing. She was convinced Hall wasn’t thinking straight either; so he’d probably thank her later. So she felt justified in ignoring his orders and keeping a watch on the church that morning. And she was being discrete too. She was parked in a side road well away from the church, but with a clear view of the steps and the big oak doors.

  She’d missed the congregation going in for the main 10.30 service, but by 11.15 she was in position. Surely they’d be out in the next quarter of an hour or so? An hour later she was regretting not bringing a Thermos and something to eat. And by 12.30 she was seriously beginning to wonder if she’d got the time of the service wrong. Didn’t these people have shopping and washing to do, lunches to cook and eat, or sport to play or watch, like normal people?

  Eventually the double doors opened and the congregation starting coming out, but slowly, because the vicar seemed keen to talk to every one of them in turn. Jane tried to imagine what it would be like to be part of that congregation, that club, and she didn’t think she fancied it. Following the rules of PACE and the principles of scientific enquiry was enough for her. The hereafter would just have to take care of itself.

  The binoculars were starting to dig in to her face, so she took them away from her eyes for a second or two. A family came out, the man struggling to get a push chair through the doors, and his wife helping to carry it down the steps. Then Jane saw a woman who she’d seen before, and it took her a few seconds to place her. It was Lillian Hill, the woman who had comforted Vicky Harrison immediately after her husband had fallen to his death. Jane checked through the binoculars, it was definitely Lillian.

  She forced herself to concentrate on the remaining stragglers as they left the church, and she watched until the vicar turned and went back inside the church, closing the doors behind him. Jane sat there thinking. Could this possibly be anything other than significant? And, assuming it was, how on earth was she going to tell Andy Hall what she’d discovered? She hadn’t ever lied to him before, and she had no intention of starting now. So she was left with just one simple decision to make. Should she tell Andy what she had discovered, and how, or should she continue the investigation alone?

  Monday, 11th March

  Ray Dixon was looking forward to meeting Ian Mann. Partly because he liked Mann, but mainly because it meant the better part of another shift out of the office. Andy Hall was a good copper and a decent bloke, but a bit too keen and a mite too southern with it, while Jane Francis was nothing but a teacher’s pet. Dixon known a lot of coppers who had worked too hard and who wound up married to the job and all alone when they were off shift. But he hadn’t said anything to Jane. She was such a know-it-all she could work it out for herself.

  Dixon’s wife Brenda, a teaching assistant at a local primary school, was on holiday that week, and over breakfast she’d said that she fancied a ride up with him to Carlisle. It was against the rules, but no-one would ever know, and he was taking his own car anyway. So they stopped at the chocolate shop in Orton on the way up, had a coffee and a teacake, and he dropped Brenda off in town.

  He parked a street or two away from Ian Mann’s and walked round. He had his DEFRA identity card and briefcase with him, just in case. He felt very visible, and not a little vulnerable, as he stood in the street waiting for Mann to let him in.

  ‘How is she, that security lass?’ asked Mann, as they stood in the kitchen while Mann made a brew.

  ‘Fine, honestly. The doctor says a bit of dentistry and a few weeks rest and she’ll be right as rain.’

  ‘If I bunged you some cash could you see that it finds its way too her? To help with the dental work. Sylvie, isn’t it?’

  ‘Don’t be soft Ian. It’s not your fault. You didn’t even know it had happened ‘til after, did you buddy?’

  ‘But I was there Ray. I was there.’

  ‘Yes you were, so let’s do a bit of Police work shall we? That other bloke, from your description and Spedding’s KAs I think it was probably this character, Carl Richardson. Does he look right to you?’

  Dixon fished his phone out of his pocket and showed Mann a mug shot.

  ‘Yes, that’s him. Plenty of form?’

  ‘I should say so. He’s a real charmer, is Carl. Two stretches for GBH, and he got off on an attempted murder last year. Couple of witnesses did runners. Mind you, I would have too if I came from Millom.’

  Mann smiled. For Ray Dixon the civilized world ended at Coniston, having only begun just north of Carnforth.

  ‘He had that look I suppose’ said Mann.

  ‘You want to watch yourself, Ian.’

  ‘I am doing lad, don’t worry. That’s the thing about career criminals, you just can’t trust the bastards. A bit like Superintendents really.’

  They took their drinks through to the sitting room.

  ‘So you think this next job with Spedding is up at height?’

  ‘Yeh. He was pissed-up, and maybe said more than he intended.’

  ‘Pinching the fairy from the top of the Chri
stmas tree?’

  ‘A bit late for that Ray.’

  ‘Metal off a roof?’

  ‘Sounds likely. A church maybe, or an industrial building perhaps. Could be anything that’s up high. But maybe it’s not even metals this time. Maybe we’re going to nick a bloody wind turbine. I wouldn’t put it past him.’

  ‘Any idea of when and where then?’

  ‘Nope. He said it would be a while. He wanted to know if I could abseil, did I tell you?’

  ‘Aye. A right bunch of super heroes you’ve got yourself mixed up with Ian. So what about young Ben Brockbank? Are you going to be off nicking someone’s silage or something?’

  ‘Don’t know, but he emailed last night. I’m meeting him in Alston in an hour. I better get myself sorted in a bit.’

  ‘I’ll be off then’ said Dixon sadly. He was disappointed, but he’d have to get back to Kendal. Now his wife would complain about not having had enough time in the shops the whole away home, and he’d have to spend the rest of the day in the office as well. It was a lose, lose situation, absolutely no doubt about that.

  Mann enjoyed the drive to Alston, even though to save time he went the quick way. The drive was still a blast, even when he climbed up into misty low cloud a mile or two before he reached the town. For such a small place it had a lot of pubs, and it took him a couple of minutes to find the one that Brockbank had suggested they meet in.

  Mann parked next to Brockbank’s Subaru, and noted that his car was quite a bit cleaner. Inside the pub was fuggy and almost empty. Brockbank had a window table, looking out over the pretty town square. Mann asked what he wanted, walked to the bar and bought the drinks. Mann put them down on the table and held out his hand. He was very aware that his attitude towards Brockbank was very different than towards Spedding, but despite that he’d have to nick them both. It was going to be an absolute pleasure to cuff Spedding nice and tight, but he’d have very mixed feelings about arresting Brockbank. He’d still pinch him though, he knew that.