Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders) (12 page)

‘You’re a good lad, Ian’ said his dad, as he was leaving.

‘You take on too much, dad, you’re not able to do all this. And those old biddies are just taking advantage. They can all afford to pay someone to do their gardening. But I was thinking, if I do get chucked out of the cops I might set myself up with a little gardening business.’

‘But you don’t know one plant from the next.’

‘That’s true, but I know when they’re untidy and need a good haircut.’

‘Spoken like a Marine.’

‘I’m not that any more, dad, and quite soon I won’t be a copper either. The powers that be want my head on a stick, and they’ll get it. I should probably start learning about the gardening job. So what’s that one with the white flowers on, over there?’

‘That’s a flowering cherry, son. It was your mum’s favourite, that was.’

‘Did she like gardening?’

‘She liked watching me do it, and you and your brothers playing in the paddling pool in the summer. Do you remember that?’

‘Not really, dad. I can’t really remember much now, just the odd picture, like snapshots in my head. I’m not even sure which ones are real, to tell the truth.’

‘Well she’d be proud of you, son. She’d be proud of your brother too of course, but you were always her favourite.’

‘I never knew that.’

‘Aye, you were. She always knew you’d do well. And you have.’

Mann left his father in the early afternoon, and was looking forward to a cool shower when he got home. He could feel the heat radiating back from the front wall of his dad’s house as he said goodbye. He’d barely settled into his stride when he saw Eleanor passing by, pushing Gemma’s wheelchair.

‘Can I give you a hand, Eleanor? I’m Ian Mann.’

‘I know who you are, Ian, but I’m all right.’

‘I’ll stroll along with you then.’

‘Well, if we’re both going the same way.’

Eleanor stopped, and Mann took over. He was surprised at how heavy the chair was to move, but he said nothing.

‘Does Gemma like this weather?’

‘I think so. I hope so. I don’t really know, not for certain.’

‘I bumped into Nobby the other day. He said he was a worried about you.’

‘Worried? That’s nice of him to say, but I don’t think so, not really. If anyone was worried about us they’d have got Terry Walker and his dreadful kids moved, or put away or something. He’s an animal. I don’t say that lightly, but he is. He’s completely without compassion, and that’s not human, is it, Ian?’

‘I heard about him and his mates chucking lumps of charcoal at Gemma.’

‘Can you believe it? To begin with I didn’t know what they were. One of them hit her wheelchair, but it could have been her face. I know social services say I’m depressed and hysterical and all that, but it happened, I promise you.’

‘I don’t doubt it. Nobby said he found lumps of the stuff in your garden.’

‘So why didn’t he arrest Terry and his drunken mates?’

‘He wanted to, but they were really stretched because of the killing on Gooseholme last week. They just couldn’t spare anyone to come out and give him a hand. Knowing Terry it would have turned into some sort of trouble, so Nobby needed help.’

‘So do I. It just sends the message to Terry that he can just do what he likes. He’s just laughing at me, at us.’

‘I see that, Eleanor, but he really can’t do what he likes. Terry Walker most certainly isn’t above the law.’

‘Before we moved down here I’d have agreed with that, but not now. Because if Nobby isn’t able, then who is going to stop him?’

They’d reached Eleanor’s house, and she opened the gate for Mann. He was being careful not to hit the gateposts with the sides of the wheelchair when the adjoining front door opened and Terry came out. He was drunk, and didn’t seem to recognise Ian Mann.

‘She’s not worth it, mate’ said Terry, pointing at Eleanor. ‘Unless you’re some sort of pervert. And I don’t like perverts. I fucking hate them in fact. Are you a pervert?’

Mann ignored him and pushed the chair slowly towards the door. It was a tight fit. Walker was only a foot or two away, because there was just a low chain between the two adjoining paths, and Mann could smell the sharp, acidic lager on his breath. He had a half finished beer bottle in his left hand, which he raised to his lips and took a swig. Then he slammed the door behind him, and started for the street. Mann thought that maybe Terry had recognised him, and decided not to pick a fight.

He had finished getting the chair into the hall, and had just pulled the front door closed when he heard the bottle smash outside. It sounded very close.

‘Stay here, and call the Police. Don’t come out’ he said to Eleanor. As he opened the door Mann was completely calm. He’d dealt with the likes of Walker many times in his Police career, and not having a Warrant card would make absolutely no difference.

Walker was standing at the end of the path. His face was very red, from the sun, the booze and the anger. ‘Yeah’ he said, ‘now fuck off, you perv.’

‘Go in to your house and get a dustpan and brush. And then clean this up.’

‘Clean what up?’

‘This broken glass. Gemma’s wheelchair could get a puncture.’

‘I didn’t throw nothing.’

‘I saw you with a bottle in your hand. Where is it now then, if you didn’t throw it?’

‘Fuck off.’

‘No Terry, you need to clean up this mess you made.’

Walker turned unsteadily, and started to walk off.

‘I’ll have you, you perv’ he shouted, when he was some distance away.

Mann watched him go, then went inside and got a dustpan and brush. He was having a cup of tea with Eleanor, and chatting about people who they’d both known at school, when a young PC called Baxter turned up. He kept calling Mann ‘Sarge’ and took twenty minutes taking the details of the incident. Then he went next door, and came back about ten minutes later.

‘Terry’s not in, and Kylie said she didn’t hear anything. But I’ll pass this on to Nobby when he’s back on shift. I’m sure he’ll be in touch.’

Mann watched Baxter pedal off on his mountain bike. He looked like a sixth-former. ‘I better get off too’ he said. ‘They really do get younger, don’t they?’

Eleanor laughed. ‘I know what you mean. But at least one of the Walker kids didn’t pinch his bike while he was here. I wouldn’t put it past them.’

‘So you’ll both be all right?’

‘We’ll be fine. And thanks for your help. I know you’re having a difficult time at the moment.’

Ian Mann had never thought of himself as a sensitive person, and he was glad he wasn’t, but as he walked home he suddenly started to feel cold, tired and rather down. The breeze had picked up, and the clouds were building in from the west, so he put it down to that. When he got home he had that long shower, then made a big bowl of pasta. His back was aching when he went to bed that night, but half a dozen old folks’ gardens were ready for inspection by anyone. Well, by anyone other than an expert gardener.

Gill McGrath arrived at the station after she finished work, and Ray Dixon collected her from the front desk.

‘When are you getting your own swipe card?’

‘Tomorrow, I think, after my induction.’

‘Thank God for that. I’m not used to all this exercise, forever collecting you and Alison and taking you back down again after. How long can you spare tonight?’

‘Until I get hungry.’

‘Right, I’ll get you a Twix from the machine on the way up. That should buy me a couple of hours.’

They walked up the stairs and along the corridor to a small office that had been turned into a makeshift CCTV review room. Dixon opened the door, but walked in before Gill, who had misunderstood his intentions and nearly bumped into him.

‘I’m not Andy Hall’ he said, and Gill laughed. ‘He’s too polite, Andy is. It worries me. But if he ever blows his stack it would be worth watching though.’

‘So where have we got to on Sanchez’s journey north?’

‘The next one to look at is Forton services, so that’ll be your job for tonight. We’ve got them going in to the services, and two cameras on the filling station forecourt. The techies have set up a two hour window for you for the way up, plus the same for the way back south again. The owners said there was only quarter of a tank in the car when it was nicked, so unless one of Cafferty’s boys filled it up our man must have stopped somewhere.’

‘This might be a two Twix job, Ray.’

He laughed. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of healthy eating?’

‘Didn’t someone tell me that you have a pie every day for your lunch? Every single day, Ray.’ They both knew who that someone was.

‘Be fair, it’s just a part of my lunch. I always have a packet of crisps as well. I do like a balanced diet.’

Gill decided to watch the forecourt footage first, just to get her eye in. She had the mug shots of Sanchez from when he was twenty, plus a computer-aged version of what he might look like now. She was dubious that she’d spot him, and hoped that she’d see the car first. She looked again at the pictures of the exact model X5 that he’d been driving. They looked like publicity shots, and a couple was shown taking a picnic basket out of the back and laughing.

She watched the footage at four times speed, which the techies had told her was sensible, and she saw the car as soon as it started to pull on to the forecourt. She didn’t need to check the photos to confirm that it was the right colour and make. Gill reached for the speed control, and slowed the footage to normal speed. A man got out of the car, walked to the back, realised that the filler cap was on the other side, took out the fuel hose, and started to put fuel in the car. She couldn’t see who it was, even as he walked out of shot towards the shop to pay.

Gill noted the time on her pad, exited the forecourt footage, and found the file of footage from the shop. She started playing, at standard speed, a couple of minutes before the X5 had arrived. The quality of the video was good, really good, and Gill found she could lip-read a few of the words that customers were saying. And when he walked in to the shot there was no doubt in her mind. It was Sanchez. She watched him pay, in cash, and glance up at the camera. Did she imagine it, or had he actually smiled and nodded?

Gill watched the footage again, because it was her discovery. For another minute or two she would the only person in the station who knew. She froze the image on a nice clear shot of Sanchez, then set off to find Ray. But his shift had finished ten minutes before, and he was already on his way home. But Jane Francis was still at her desk.

‘Jane, Jane, we’ve got him.’

‘You’ve found Sanchez? Where?”

‘At Forton, paying for petrol. I’m certain it’s him. Shall we tell Andy?’

‘No, best if I check first. But I’m sure you’re right.’

‘He’s a brilliant detective though, isn’t he, Jane?’

‘DI Hall follows procedure.’ She regretted it as soon as she’d said it. What on earth had made her say that? ‘But yeah, of course, he’s a pretty smart cookie.’

While Gill was making her discovery Andy Hall was in a meeting with one of the accountants from HQ, doing his best to defend his budget for the coming year, so he missed all the excitement. But when he turned his Blackberry back on the emails piled in. They had Sanchez connected to the X5, so following confirmation from the facial recognition software the CPS would arrange for an international arrest warrant to be issued. It was a clean, fast result, and it was just what Robinson needed.

‘That’s one in the eye for Val Gorham’ he said, when he closed Hall’s office door after the accountants had been sent on their way, ‘so what’s your next move?’

‘Just as we said when we met with Val. Concentrate on the conspiracy behind Sanchez’s arrival, and finding the source of the information about Williams. Look, sir, I was wondering, would there be any chance of me and perhaps Jane popping down to DI Sheridan’s nick for a day or two? See if we can help out a bit.’

‘If their Super is happy then of course, certainly. But what’s your thinking, Andy? Are they short-staffed?’

‘Not so as you’d notice, sir, but between us they’re so used to getting nowhere with Billy Cafferty that they’re maybe just a bit defeatist. I think they almost expect a bad outcome, not to get anywhere in making the connection back to Cafferty.’

‘You’re not suggesting anything else though, some kind of collusion?’

‘I’ve got no reason to think that, so no, I’m certainly not. As I say, it’s just an offer. I think they’ve been pleasantly surprised by what us country bumpkins can do, so far at least.’

‘No-one would call you a bumpkin, Andy. All right, if their Super OKs it go down for a couple of days. No more mind. And you’ll leave Ray Dixon in charge of looking at it from this end?’