A Shot In The Night (John Harper Series Book 2) (10 page)

Dressed
in blue suit with a crisp light blue shirt, I set off for the community centre
that Fraser had told me Matthew Thompson would be at.  On the way I held up my
end of the bargain to Rich and made a call to Detective Inspector Frank Spencer
on my hands free kit in the car, always aware of the safety of other drivers on
the road.

“I
honestly don’t believe you are calling me, Harper.”

“Spencer,
how you doing?”

“Usually
better for not talking to you.  I heard you left the force so I take it this is
just a social call and if it is let me hang up right now and save you the
breath.”

“I
helped make your name Frankie, you’d think you would be more grateful.  I heard
they moved you back into the city helping bring down the real criminals now. 
Is that a good or a bad thing?” it was a fine line I walked with Spencer, he
didn’t like me but he did respect that I was a good detective.  He had come
under a lot of flak for his dealing with the Hollingswood homicides but I gave
him a lot of the credit in the after action reports since I was technically off
duty and just in the village for a holiday.  The press division had loved
having two hero officers from two different areas working together to solve a
set of murders and rescuing a young woman.  It also helped that when she was
brought out of the tunnel he was seen carrying her in an excellent photo
opportunity.

“My
life is never dull now, Harper,” he said with a tone in his voice that sounded
weary.

“Well
how about I make it a little quieter for you and help out with the recent
shootings in Elsworth?”

“We
don”t hire civilians and we don’t have the department of retirees you do in
Manchester.”

Spencer
wanted me to tell him my real reason for helping; I knew that so would play his
little game, “It was going to be an early Christmas present for you.  I know a
couple of riflemen in the area and they seem to think that there is a guy you
should be looking at for the shooter.”

“And
you’re willing to just give me his name?”

“It’s
an area of enquiry isn’t it?”

“More
importantly how the hell do you know riflemen in the area?” Spencer asked.

I
couldn’t help but roll my eyes, “I do have friends, Spencer.”

“Not
from what I can tell.”

“So
are you going to look into this name or what?”

The
silence ticked over and I knew that he didn’t want to accept my help, “I won’t
make any promises but I’ll see what we’ve got on the man.”

“Well
I hope it helps, I’m pretty sure this shooter has been around for awhile,” I
said aiming it as a throwaway comment and it just caught his attention.

“Harper,
what are you getting at?  Have you been speaking to Camille Jarvis?”

I
was a bit surprised that he asked about the journalist but he had read her
reports over the Hollingswood case just as much as I had, considering his name
was being used, “Camille? No, why do you ask?”

Spencer
sighed, “I’ve had her asking questions insinuating that there is some assassin
or something working n the city bumping off drug dealers.”

“Sounds
like one of her usual conspiracy theories.  Let me guess; there is some hidden
kingpin in the background that no one has ever heard of or seen.”

“Oh
no, not this time.  She’s managed to pick out a real life drug dealer who we
have never been able to get anything on.  I’ve had to warn her if she keeps
going down that road she could end up in hot water with this guy.”

“Well
I don’t know about any kingpin or assassin but I’ve been keeping the old
detective mind sharp and all, Spencer, and I’m leaning in the direction of a
rifle shooter in the Boulton shooting.”

Again
there was a silence, “I’ve met the Morrison kid, Harper.  He admitted to it. 
Open and shut case on that one.”

“I’m
not so sure.”

“Maybe
you are seeing more to it than there is.”

“Last
time I did that I saved a girl’s life.”

Spencer
sighed, exasperated with me, “And you’ll never let me forget that, will you?”

“Not
really.  That name you’re looking for is a Mister Lionel Ambrose, sorry I don’t
have anything else but I think he is a good fit for all of these recent
shootings.  Well maybe not the ones in the car but definitely the others.”

“Well
we never had anyone even suggest that there was a rifle used at the scene of
the Boulton shooting.”

“Did
you find any casings or even the bullet?”

“No
we didn’t.  The likelihood is the bullet flew off at an untraceable trajectory.
On the other hand, a lot of the shootings around here are carried out with
revolvers which keep the casing inside.  When we picked up the Morrison boy we
found a revolver.”

I
rubbed my jaw thinking for a moment, “Any gun powder residue?”

“Nothing
we could find but that’s no surprise; likelihood is he got rid of the clothes
and gloves he was wearing.  As for the shooting at the football pitches we’ve
had people calling in saying they saw a rifle being fired from the house across
the street and that is where we found the casings.”

One
of things I liked about Spencer was that in his aim of getting more information
he tended to give you what you wanted to know.  I’d seen a lot of it before the
trial and even before that when he was questioning Martin Wills, one of the
suspects in the Hollingswood case.  It was a common trait, people tend not to
like silence and Spencer is very much a person who wants you to know how clever
he is.  He also didn’t like me for the same reason but I’m just a little better
at keeping my mouth shut…usually, “Oh well, that’s useful.  It’s always good
when the community come forward to help.  Brave as well if there is a nefarious
kingpin involved who could punish them for speaking out.”

“It
was anonymous.”

“Even
better then.  Check out that name, Spencer; I don’t think you’ll be too
disappointed. And try and keep an open mind on the Boulton shooting.”

“Harper
I don’t know why the hell you are getting involved but I’ve got a funny feeling
that I will be hearing from you again.”

“Aww
guess you miss me then.”

Pulling
up outside the centre, I wasn’t surprised to see the state of disrepair it was
in.  The roads had been busy with police cars and patrols so I felt a little
safer parking my car on the street as the small car park for the centre was
full.  I was still sore getting out of the vehicle and did my best not to limp
as I walked inside the building.

From
the stonework outside and the tall ceilings it was easy to see that the
building was a converted church.  However it was a long time since it had been
used as a house of worship, with no visible signs of the Lord on the walls or
windows.  Once inside the foyer there was that musty wooden smell that you
often find with building that age and I was greeted by a notice board covered
with flyers for teams and meetings.

A
couple of years ago when I went off the deep end with my drinking I was told it
was in my interest to go to places like the one I was stood in for help with my
addiction.  It was a not so subtle way of forcing me to go to meetings and I
will admit I did briefly entertain the notion.  As such I wasn’t the biggest
fan of organised groups with the word anonymous in the title but I did see
their use.

There
were two doors either side of the main double door which led to a large open
area, I didn’t bother with them and walked inside the centre.  Spaced out were
three table tennis tables, two pool tables and a settee.  Young men and women
laughed, joking at each other’s expense as they played the games and reclined
on the furniture.  One man stood out, he was older than the teenagers but not
yet thirty.  He had seemed to permanently have a smile on his face as he moved around
the groups.  Just smaller than me and with a stocky frame, in another place he
would seem intimidating but there he just seemed welcoming.  His hair was
shaven short and nearly covered the line of scar on his head.  When he saw me
the smile froze for a second and shortened just perceptibly, “Detective, how
can I help you?”

I
wasn’t surprised that he thought I was a cop.  I’d spent years undercover not
being seen as one and now I’d left the force everyone and their son picked me
out, “Are you Mister Matthew Thompson?”

“Yes,
what seems to be the problem?  One of the kids cause some trouble?” Thompson
said with a resigned note in his voice as if it was something he was used to
saying.

“I’m
here looking for some information.  Do you mind if I have a word in private?”

“I’m
the designated supervisor for this group so I can’t leave them unsupervised in
here.  We can go talk over in the corner away from prying ears though.”

“Sure,”
I said as Thompson indicated to another care worker to watch over the group and
walked with me to one side.

He
was dressed in light blue shirt with black trousers and comfortable looking
trainers; up close I could see dark brown eyes and a thin layer of stubble. 
Thompson watched me closely, much like the fighters had in the gym, as if
expecting me to make a sudden move at anytime.

“So
what do you want to talk about?” he said, folding his arms.

I
offered a short smile, “Just some information on the kids around here.  With
all these recent shootings it helps to know what to expect.”

“Yeah
well I can see you’re not used to the area.  What are you, some new guy trying
to help with the figures?” my accent was a hindrance trying to find information
in the area and I wasn’t confident in changing it to mix with theirs.  The
Scouse inflection was something that the people were fiercely proud of and its
unique collaboration of other provincialisms made it difficult to accurately
mimic.  I’d perfected an Irish voice for myself whilst undercover and that was
one of the ingredients in the social melting pot that had created the tone of
Liverpool but it wasn’t enough for me to feel confident that I could convince
these people I was one of them.

“I’m
not here to massage any figures or to change any plans you have here.  I’m just
looking for information to help out.  I was told by Max Fraser that you know
these streets and the kids on them very well and that you would be the best
person to talk to.”

Thompson
set his jaw and shifted his body weight just enough that he was no longer
looking at the group of youths but was now between me and them.  To be honest I
was impressed that he cared that much, “If Fraser told you that then you aren’t
with the police.  You might look it but there is no way that old warhorse would
ever let a copper into his place.  So tell me who are you?”

“You’re
sort of right.  My name is John Harper; I am a retired DI who still works for
the force in Manchester as a consultant of sorts.  I’m here looking into the
shootings as a favour to a friend.  I’ve got experience in gang warfare and
killings like this so he thought it would be worth me having a look around. 
Like you said I don’t really fit in here but I am trying to help.”

“Harper
did you say?” Thompson asked.  I merely nodded, “is that the same Harper who
rescued that girl out in Hollingswood?”

I
nodded again, “Not my usual thing I can assure you.”

“No
don’t get me wrong from what I can remember you saved her life and risked
yours.  You even stared down a gunman of your own,” his shoulders relaxed
slightly as he recalled the story.  I was hoping it would all be forgotten but
it had been national news at the time and scandals tend to stay around longer
than simple cases.

“Again
not what I usually do, I mean who would willingly put themselves in front of a
gun that often?” I asked jokily.

Thompson
smiled and just nodded, “Unfortunately I have some experience of it working
here.”

I
felt awkward but laughed to ease the tension, “Sorry about that.”

“Just
one of the perks of the job.  It’s not often that we get trouble these days but
it happens.  More likely someone brings in a knife or decides to smack someone
with a pool cue,” he said, instinctively rubbing the scar on his head.

“Strange
job to choose.”

“Yeah
guess it is.  I was luckier than a lot of these kids.  I grew up with a loving family
far away from what it is like here.  I went to a good school and even went to
university but when I came back to my home city I knew I had to make a
difference.  My first night back after I graduated I was mugged, I got called a
southern fairy and had my wallet and phone nicked.  I had a job lined up with
the council and started there, couple of years in I moved into the social
services side of things.  This centre didn’t exist when I started up and I’ve
fought all the way to keep it funded through all these budget cuts but it
helps.”

I
looked at the kids as they enjoyed themselves, “It’s very noble of you.”

“I
don’t do it to be noble.  These are my people Mister Harper and I want what is
best for them.  So if you are here to help then I’ll do my very best to aid you
in your cause.”

“I
appreciate it.  Fraser said that you would be my best bet in tracking down the
recent shooters.”

“There
lies one of the big problems.  This centre is new and I’m getting a lot of kids
off the streets and in here but if they are a certain age then I’m at a loss to
help,” Thompson wrung his hands in frustration, “You should see the truancy
numbers for the local schools, some kids just don’t want to learn.  I get them
in here they might do something productive. It takes time but some of them go
back to school or occasionally we get people in to help teach them a trade.”

“But
if they are used to standing out on the street drinking with the groups then
they stick to it?”

He
nodded, “It’s a tough cycle for them to get out of to be honest.  You’ll see it
generationally as well.  If their brothers worked for the gang then they will.”

“Do
you have any luck getting them out of the gangs?”

“It
is a rarity.  You can get them away from the others but you can’t get them away
from the culture.  That’s the thing there might not be people related to the
gangs as such but there are still people dealing and taking drugs.  You don’t
have to be in a crew to get a gun and that spells a whole lot of trouble.”

I
was beginning to see how much of a problem it was for the local community and
how dangerous this investigation could be.  I could ask one wrong question and
then I was getting a bullet aimed at me, “Do you know of any of the shooters
using a rifle?”

“Rifle?”
he repeated before shaking his head, “Not that I can think of.  It’s too big
for most of them if you ask me.  Closest they get to a rifle is sniping on one
of the FPS’s on the computer.”

Raising
an eyebrow at the anagram he realised I wasn’t as up to date as he was with the
lingo of the console generation, “First Person Shooters, Mister Harper.”

“I
get you.  Well Mister Thompson, if you could think of anyone who you think
could be linked to these shootings or, and I stress not putting yourself in
danger here, if you could possibly ask around for any information then it would
be very helpful.”

“They’re
not likely to give each other up Mister Harper, no matter who is asking the
question.”

“I
understand but there are people shooting each other out there and I don’t want
to see more bloodshed.  Anyone who can use a rifle accurately to do the damage
that has been inflicted on this community needs to be stopped.”

Thompson
put his hands together as if in prayer and touched them to his lips, slowly
closing his eyes.  A moment later raised his eyelids stared at me and then
spoke, “You’re right.  I’ll start asking about rifles and who could possibly
have been involved.  If I get any names then I’ll pass them on to you.”

“Just
one more thing.  What is your opinion on the Boulton shooting?  Do you think that
the Morrison kid had it in him to pull the trigger?”

The
social worker exhaled and looked up for a second, “I know Morrison in passing
and he’s not the smartest of lads.  Look, he got caught up with the gang and
peer pressure can force you into doing a lot of things that you may not want to
do.”

“Thanks
it’s good to get the opinion of people who know this place.  Here’s my card,
feel free to call me anytime if you manage to find something out.”

“Here’s
hoping I do.”