Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders) (5 page)

She didn’t have to wait very long for it all to kick off. Later, when the two coppers asked her what had happened she said she didn’t know, and for once that was the truth. She knew the older one, PC Styles, known to everyone as Nobby, but the other one was a woman hobby-bobby who she’d never seen before. She’d sat with Kylie in the sitting room while Nobby tried to calm things down in the garden, and Kylie could tell that the woman was shocked at the state of the place. ‘Terry’s a bit untidy’ she found herself saying, ‘sorry.’

Gill McGrath tried not to look around her too much, and smiled back. But the shouting from outside was getting louder, and Gill wasn’t sure what to do. Nobby had told her to stay inside, but now she was getting worried. And when she got up and walked out, through the dingy kitchen and out into the bright sunshine, she was glad she had. Nobby was standing with his back to her, and three men were facing him, pointing at him, and then across towards the next house. They looked very angry, and very drunk too. The swearing didn’t bother her, she said worse if she dropped a plate, but she was shocked by how close they were to Nobby, and how threatening they seemed.

‘So can’t a few blokes enjoy a quiet drink in their own garden now, Nobby?’ one of them shouted, even though he was only a foot from Nobby’s face. ‘That fucking bitch must have had you lot round here twenty times in the last year, and what have you done about it? Fuck all, that’s what, because I ain’t done nowt.’

‘Terry, calm down a minute, and just listen to me for a second. We’re here because we had a report that you were shouting abuse and throwing lumps of charcoal over the fence at your neighbour. Is that right?’

‘No way. That bitch would say anything to drop me in the shit.’

‘So when we go next door we won’t find any lumps of hot charcoal?’

‘I don’t know, do I? She’d do fucking anything to get me into trouble. She could be doing it herself. But nothing came from this side. The lads with tell you.’

‘So what started it this time then, Terry?’

Gill was astonished that Nobby seemed to be able to stay so calm and apparently relaxed.

‘She did, Nobby. She’s fucking mental, just like that daughter of hers. She just kicked off at us like.’

‘All right, Terry, this is what we need you to do. Listen carefully now. You and your mates either go into the house, go somewhere else entirely, or just sit out here quietly until we come back. If we hear the slightest sound out of any of you when we’re next door I’ll call a van in and we’ll do the lot of you for a breach of the peace, and maybe more. You got that?’

Terry’s mate Trev drunkenly held a finger up to his mouth and made a ‘shhh’ sound.

‘Welcome to the estate’ said Nobby to Gill, when they were back out at the front of the house. ‘And if you think he’s bad you should see his lads. Both teenagers, and they’re as stupid as Terry is but twice as nasty.’

‘His wife doesn’t look old enough to have kids that age.’

Nobby laughed. ‘They never do. But no, they’re not hers. Poor Kylie’s a nice kid actually. We used to do her every Christmas time for shoplifting toys for her own two kids by Terry, back when Woolworths was still open in town. We must have cautioned her five or six times, the Super would go nuts if he knew we hadn’t passed the files to the CPS. But Terry just drinks the kids’ benefits, so what else could she do come Christmas? Anyway, let’s go and talk to Eleanor. It’s quite safe to let her make us a brew by the way. It’s one of the first things you learn in this job, who you can safely accept a brew from.’

The two houses looked much the same from the outside, but inside they couldn’t have been more different. When Eleanor had opened the door Gill picked up a slightly sour medical smell that she couldn’t quite place, but the house was spotless. They all went in to the sitting room, and Eleanor introduced them to Gemma, whose wheelchair was backed into the bay window. Gill watched as Nobby walked over, crouched down and said hello. Gill knew that he didn’t expect a reply. She wasn’t sure what to do, so she stood there awkwardly until Nobby introduced her.

Eleanor offered tea, and Nobby accepted, winking at Gill. She stood and looked at the book case while Eleanor was in the kitchen, and guessed that Eleanor was or had been a teacher, probably of French.

‘Teacher?’ she said, when Eleanor came back with a tray of tea and biscuits.

‘Modern languages. Or I was until my husband left us and we had to move in here. Since then I’ve been Gemma’s carer full-time. Anyway, you should be a detective, working that out.’

Gill laughed. ‘I’m just a Special Constable, a hobby bobby. Nobby’s the real thing.’

‘He certainly is. Nobby’s been a regular visitor here for the past year or two.’

‘So what was it this time Eleanor? Dog shit in the garden again, more shouting and swearing?’

‘No. I just went out into the garden with Gemma, so I could read for a while, and the insults started. The usual stuff, about Gemma, you know.’

‘What did you do?’

‘Ignored it, as usual. Then one of them starting flicking lumps of charcoal at us.’

‘At you?’

‘Yes, at us both I think.’

‘Did any hit either of you?’

‘One bit hit Gemma’s chair. I heard it.’

Gill looked across at Nobby and she could see that he was angry. She was surprised. He put his mug of tea down on a coaster.

‘Do you mind if I go out into the garden and have a look? Gill, you stay here with Eleanor and Gemma.’

Eleanor sat down in a chair next to Gemma’s wheelchair. ‘Have you been doing this long?’

‘No, I only started a while back.’

‘Why did you join?’

‘To try to help a bit, I suppose.’

Eleanor smiled. ‘You’ll be surprised at how little you can actually do in situations like this. I know I was when I found out. You think the police have power, don’t you?’ She spoke sadly, but without any apparent rancour.

‘Your neighbours give you a lot of trouble, do they?’

‘Yes. I dread the summer now, because he’ll be out there all the time from now until September. In winter it’s just the constant noise of the telly, the stereo or the shouting. But we’ve both got accustomed to that. Gemma isn’t deaf, so she used to get frightened, but she’s used to it now.’

‘And we haven’t been able to do anything about it?’

‘No. When you come round he just blames me, poor Kylie backs him up, and nothing happens. He usually calms down a bit for a few days though, but then it starts up again. It seems to be Gemma who winds him and his disgusting kids up the most. I tried really hard to understand why that was at the start, to try to explain her condition and reason with him, but I soon learned that was pointless. I even get into slanging matches with him now, and I wish I didn’t. It makes me no better than he is. But I just get so angry.’

Gill nodded, and was glad to hear the sound of Nobby’s squeaky boots on the kitchen lino. He nodded at Gill when he came in to the room.

‘There’s charcoal out there all right. I found half a dozen lumps, still warm too. I actually think I can nick him properly this time Eleanor, and nothing on this earth will give me more pleasure. And Gill, you didn’t hear me say that, right?’

‘Thanks, Nobby’ said Eleanor. ‘We both know it won’t make any difference, but thanks anyway for trying.’

‘Chin up, Eleanor’ said Nobby, draining his mug. ‘You stay in here for a bit. Ill just nip outside and radio in for a van and a couple of lads. I’ll ask for the ones with the shortest tempers, don’t you worry, and then we’ll nick Terry. All being well his mates will kick off and we’ll have them as well. He’s gone way over the line this time love, and we can prove it too.’

Gill could see Nobby standing on the street outside the front window, using his radio and then his mobile. He was gone for what felt like ages.

‘I’m sorry, Eleanor’ he said when he came back, ‘but we can’t lift Terry today. We’ve got a big job on, and me and Gill here are needed, right away. So I’ll just pop back in there and try to get him to calm down and leave you and Gemma alone. I’m really sorry about this. But if he kicks off again just phone in, straight away.’

Eleanor nodded sadly. ‘I will, Nobby, but not because I think you’ll do anything to help me. It’s just that I’ve got absolutely nowhere else to turn.’

The door-to-door on Burneside Road, where Williams had been living, wasn’t yielding much, but Alison Thornton was still enjoying it. She’d been paired with a young PC down from HQ called Ruth Bennett, and she seemed chattier than the Kendal cops that Alison had been out with before.

‘Have you noticed the look on their faces when they open the door?’ asked Ruth, after drawing another blank. ‘It usually takes them a second to work out who we are.’

‘Yes, I know what you mean. I wonder why?’

‘Most of them have probably never spoken to a bobby in their lives before, I think that’s why it is. I like doing door-to-door occasionally, because it’s the only time we ever get any respect these days.’

‘Is that why you do a desk job?’

Ruth laughed. ‘Don’t say that, for Christ’s sake. I still count as front line in the stats, even though I do usually work in the office. And don’t judge me too harshly, Alison, just wait ‘til you’ve been out to a few domestics and night club punch-ups before you decide how much time you want to spend on the front line. I just realised I couldn’t understand where most of these people I dealt with at work were coming from. It was like they were from another planet, honestly. I just had no idea how to deal with them, what to say even. Usually all I seemed to do was wind them up even more. Some bobbies seem to have the knack of getting through to them, but I just don’t.’

They’d reached another front door, so Ruth knocked, and stood back. After thirty seconds she knocked again, more loudly. She shook her head after another thirty seconds had passed, and they turned away together.

‘So what’s your day job then, Alison? Do you get to deal with the great British public at all?’

‘No, I’m the accountant for a security firm.’

‘Oh, which one?’

‘Not local, based near St Helens.’

‘You must be keen, coming all the way up here to do this.’

‘I’m thinking of relocating, so it made sense.’

‘Blimey, being a Special in a place is enough to put you off anywhere I reckon. A few months of this and you’ll probably end up moving to Hebden Bridge or somewhere.’

‘Why Hebden Bridge?’

‘Oh, no reason’ said Ruth quickly, walking ahead of Alison to the next front door. She knocked, and it opened so fast that the old dear behind the door must have been there already, planning her tea and biscuits-based ambush.

‘Thanks very much’ said Ruth, when the old lady had made her pitch, ‘That would be lovely. And would it be OK if we asked you a few questions at the same time?’

The house was almost opposite the one that Williams had been living in, and the old dear knew all about it.

‘It’s rented out, that one is. The new tenant has only been there a few months. I’ve only seen him a few times, and I keep my eyes open, I do.’

‘I’ll bet you do, Mrs. Potter. Can you describe the man who lives there?’

‘He was quite young, about fifty, a bit on the well fed side, and he was going a bit bald. Is that him?’

‘Yes, that’s him.’

‘Done something wrong, has he?’

‘No, nothing like that.’

‘Is he the one who you found down on Gooseholme then?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘Terrible it is. I walk down there sometimes with my grandchildren. You’re not safe anywhere these days.’

‘There’s nothing to worry about, Mrs. Potter, you’ll be perfectly safe. Now, have you seen this car round here recently?’

Mrs. Potter didn’t look at the photo of the X5 for long. ‘No, dear. But I’m not very good with cars. My husband had a Fiesta until he died, and I recognise those. He used to polish it twice a week, regular as clockwork. But that isn’t a Fiesta, is it?’

Ruth Bennett put the picture away.

‘Have you seen anyone hanging around in the last few days? Anyone or anything unusual?’

The old lady thought about it for some time.

‘Well, the postman was twenty minutes later than usual yesterday.’ Ruth and Alison waited, but Mrs. Potter had nothing to add. So they got up, and said their goodbyes.

‘Blown out again’ said Alison, when they were outside.

‘The story of my life’ said Ruth, smiling. ‘Still, you never know, we might get lucky with the next one.’

Andy Hall had almost asked DI Tony Sheridan, his opposite number in Merseyside and the SIO on the Cafferty case, to go and talk to Billy Cafferty without him. It would be a total waste of time, he knew that already, because Billy was much too sharp to have had even the slightest direct connection with the killing of Williams. It was equally certain that he was behind it of course, but Hall’s certainty counted for precisely nothing: which was also the percentage chance that Billy Cafferty would incriminate himself in any way.