Death on High (The Lakeland Murders) (10 page)

BOOK: Death on High (The Lakeland Murders)
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‘Do you want to?’

‘I certainly do. I think Vicky Harrison is as guilty of sin.’

‘Of pushing her husband off Hart Crag? That’s a pretty uncertain way of killing someone.’

‘Maybe she just wanted him injured.’

‘Jane, it’s a massive drop.’

‘Maybe she didn’t care then, I don’t know. Anyway, I’ll take a drive round to see Willis in my lunch hour, OK?’

‘No, do it in a day or two if you don’t mind. Robinson will do his nut if I go back to him too soon on this.’

‘You could say I acted on my own initiative.’

‘That’s never going to happen Jane. I’m responsible for this team, and I’ll take my chances with Robinson. If the worst comes to the worst I’ll tell him I’ve seen the light.’

‘You mean Jesus?’

‘I was thinking of giving Islam a go.’

Jane laughed. ‘He’d love that, wouldn’t he? These religious types all seem to believe that their particular God makes the existence of other people’s impossible. But Islam sounds like a good shout for you boss, because I hear that heroism is rewarded with lots of Vicky Harrisons in the afterlife. No wait, that’s virgins, isn’t it?’

Hall laughed. ‘Get out Jane. You’ve got a very nasty mind.’

 

 

 

At noon Mann had sent Ben Brockbank an email confirming that he was on for that night, and by nine in the evening he was ready to go. It felt like being in the Marines, checking his kit before a job. He was wearing dark clothes, and he put what he thought they might need in a big bag. There was a balaclava, two torches, bolt cutters, a hammer and chisel, his lock-picking set and bunch of skeleton keys. He felt very much like the working villain about town.

 

The drive would only take twenty minutes at this time on a Monday night, but at ten thirty he was already sitting in his car. He couldn’t wait to get started. Mann drove sedately, and parked up in the old square at Brampton a minute or two before eleven. At five past Brockbank opened the door and got in.

‘All right?’

‘Fine. What’s the job then?’

‘Get moving, and I’ll tell you. Head east on the A69.’

Mann pulled out, and drove slowly through the village.

‘Do you always drive like this?’ asked Brockbank.

‘I don’t want to draw any attention.’

‘You think it looks normal to see one of these doing thirty round here? You need to drive it like you stole it at all times, honest. Go on marrer, get a move on.’

Neither man spoke until they reached the A69.

‘We’re nicking three tractors off a dealer, just up here. I checked yesterday, and he’s put the ones we want right near the back gate.’

‘I thought you’d be after the best gear?’

‘No, the ones we’re after are probably the cheapest on the lot, and also the easiest to nick. But they’re still better than my old man’s tractor, and a hundred times better than anything they’ve got where these are going.’

Mann didn’t want to ask too many questions.

‘So what am I doing?’

‘What tools you got with you?’

‘Bolt cutter, hammer and chisel, various odds and sods.’

‘Good, we don’t need to go to my motor first then. You’ll only need the cutters. Your job is to get the gate open for me. Then me and another lad will get the tractors onto his wagon, and you will help tie them down and swap the plates, just in case he gets a tug later. But by the time the shyster who owns this place gets in tomorrow and reports this they’ll be gone and far away. You happy with that?’

Mann nodded. He could see a floodlit roadside lot now, with all kinds of agricultural machines parked up. It was right on the main road. For the first time he started to feel nervous.

‘Take the next left, down that lane, and park in front of the wagon. The lights on the lot go out just before half past, and as soon as they do we get the side gate open. It is alarmed now, but it’s just after shift change for the cops, so it’ll take them twenty minutes to get a car here. We need to be clear in fifteen.’

‘Sweet’ said Mann admiringly. He drove past a rig with a big low-loader on it. They parked and sat in silence for a minute or two. Mann could feel a slight clamminess inside his gloves, but otherwise he felt almost completely calm.

‘It’s a funny thing’ said Brockbank, ‘but you haven’t asked me what the pay for this job is.’

Mann’s stomach turned.

‘I thought you wanted to try me out, that’s all.’

‘This aint no freebie marrer, there’s five hundred quid in it for you.’

Mann whistled.

‘Listen, those tractors will bring me in six grand, which I split fifty-fifty with Dave, the driver. So you’re well worth your share.’

 

The lights on the lot went out. ‘Come on then’ said Brockbank, ‘let’s get this done.’

They got out of the car, and Mann took his bolt cutters from the boot. The barrier was the swing up and down type, secured by a heavy duty padlock and chain. Mann decided that the chain would be the easiest to get through, and he was right. Within twenty seconds he had gone through both links, and was swinging the heavy counterweighted bar upwards. As he did so he heard one of the tractors start, and it drove past him just as he was locking the barrier in the up position. Mann ran back to his car, threw the cutters in the boot and headed for the trailer. The first tractor was already on, Brockbank was out of the cab and running back to the lot, and Dave was already pulling the straps down on one side of the trailer. He motioned to Mann to do the same on the other side.

 

It felt to Mann like they’d used all of their fifteen minutes and more by the time they’d tied down all three tractors and put fake plates on them. Dave hadn’t said a single word to him, but he waved as he finished and ran towards his cab. Mann and Brockbank ran back to his car, and Brockbank told him to drive east to the next junction, and turn there to drive back to Brampton. ‘We’ll clock the cops coming the other way I expect’ said Brockbank calmly.

 

He was right, and just before Brampton they saw a marked car heading east fast, with its blues and twos on. Brockbank laughed, and Mann just drove, checking his rear view mirror regularly.

‘You’re a cool customer Gary, I’ll give you that. Was that really your first time thieving?’

‘Yes.’

‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’

‘Aye, it does that.’

 

Mann drove at the speed limit, and pulled over in the side street in Brampton where Brockbank had left his Subaru. Mann remembered that he should ask about his money.

‘How long ‘til you can settle up Ben?’

‘Won’t be long Gary. Just when I get paid. Like I said those tractors are for export, and it takes a few days for them to reach their destination. I get the cash then.’

Mann nodded. ‘No rush, I’m not short at the moment.’

Brockbank reached for the door handle, but didn’t get out. The courtesy light had come on, and he looked over at Mann.

‘Do you like a flutter?’

Mann shrugged. He didn’t want to commit himself.

‘Course you do. Tell you what. There’s the first hound trail of the season, just a practice run like, up Kentmere on Saturday. Two o’clock start. Come along and I’ll hand over the money then. See how much you get to go home with, eh?’

‘I haven’t been to a hound trail since I was a kid. One of my uncles was keen. Stupid sod lost the family car to a bookie one time on Kendal Racecourse.’

Brockbank smiled. ‘It happens.’ He reached over and shook Mann’s hand. ‘There’s more where that came from, if you’re up for it.’

Mann nodded, and Brockbank opened the door. Mann couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so alive.

Tuesday, 26th February

 

When Hall emailed Val Gorham with an update on Ian Mann’s activities of the night before, and what follow-up he’d put in hand, her reply arrived within a minute. How did anyone read and write so fast? What she wanted was an immediate meeting, involving Robinson, Hall, herself and Ian Mann. Hall tried to match her speed, and suggested that they meet in Kendal, to keep Ian well away from his new associates. ‘2pm’ came the reply.

 

Superintendent Robinson was not happy, and at noon Hall was sitting in his office.

‘Who does she think she is? The Chief? I’ve had to re-arrange a very important lunch because of this.’

Hall did his best to look sympathetic.

‘I’m not sure what she’s getting so worked up about sir. The nature of sending an officer undercover is that they will become involved in criminal activity.’

‘Any news on those tractors?’

‘No, sir, not so far. But even if there was I’d want us to let them go, and alert Europol to follow them. Ian was sure that they were going abroad.’

Robinson didn’t look happy. ‘I’m beginning to regret us getting this assignment Ian, because I’ve got the feeling that it’ll turn out to be a poisoned chalice. We just can’t win here. Because if Ian doesn’t successfully infiltrate organised criminal enterprises then we’ll be criticised for wasting resources, and if he does we’ll be expected to get instant results. I just wonder if the other divisional commanders deliberately put forward weak cases, to make sure we got this one.’

Thanks very much thought Hall. It had taken him and Jane two weekends to pull their proposal together.

‘Let’s see how Val Gorham plays it, shall we sir? Ian has done a great job so far, and we’re pretty confident that we can get him in with Joey Spedding too, thanks to Ray’s DEFRA ruse.’

‘All right Andy, let’s see what she says. But remember, be as diplomatic as possible, I’ve no idea how much front line policing Ms Gorham has done, but one thing I promise you, when it comes to organisational politics she’ll be a past-master.’

Takes one to know one, thought Hall. ‘Yes sir, I will bear that in mind.’

 

 

For once Jane Francis did manage to pop out for lunch, and she met her friend Sally Bristow in a cafe in town.

‘It’s not like you to tear yourself away from the beloved’ said Sally, as they sat down with their soup and rolls.

‘Don’t you start.’

‘Is there trouble in paradise?’

‘You could say that. What is it about men that makes them so stupid?’

‘I don’t think we’ve got time for that one, have we?’

‘You will keep this to yourself, won’t you Sal? Don’t tell Bill.’

Sally laughed. ‘Don’t worry about that. He never listens to a word I say anyway.’

‘Do you listen to him?’

‘Of course not. I always know what he’d going to say. Marriage is about not having to listen any more.’

Jane smiled. ‘The bloody idiot only shagged you-know-who.’

Sally gestured pushing someone over, and a drop of soup fell from the end of her spoon.

‘Yes, her.’

‘But isn’t that against the law or something?’

‘No, because there’s no official investigation.  At least, not at the moment.’

‘So did he tell you this himself?’

‘He denied it. But I could tell. His wife’s only been gone five minutes too.’

Sally laughed. ‘I’m not sure it’s anything to do with you Jane. Anyway, you want to improve him now do you, like doing up an old house?’

Jane laughed. ‘Something like that.’

‘Good luck with that then. And make sure you’ve got plenty of emotional supports handy if you do take him on. I bet you’ll need them.’

‘It’s all academic anyway. I’m pretty sure he likes me, but that’s it. Anyway, tell me about what’s happening with you. How’s things at work?’

‘Busy, and Bill is still waiting for the axe to fall. From the way he goes on you’d think we’d be kicked out of our house the week after.’

‘Would you?’

‘If I keep my job then no, we’d be OK, but it would be even tighter than it is now. The kids eat likes horses. And, speaking of which, the great thing about the horsemeat scandal is that suddenly we’re flavour of the month at work, if you’ll pardon the pun.’ Jane laughed.

‘And I don’t know what people are complaining about. People should be happy that it was only horse. I told you about that monkey we found, didn’t I?’

 

 

 

Andy Hall ate the sandwich that he’d brought in. It was dull and dry, but it was his own fault because the bread was past its best. He’d hoped to grab ten minutes with Ian Mann before the de-brief, but an accident on the M6 meant that he didn’t arrive until five minutes before the meeting.

 

Val Gorham and Robinson were sitting side by side, each as immaculate as the other. It looked as if they’d made up. Ian Mann looked as if he’d been up half the night. It was clear that Val Gorham was in the chair, and she spoke first.

‘After the events of last night we thought that a prompt de-brief and re-assessment was in order.’ Hall wasn’t sure who the ‘we’ referred to, but he decided not to ask. ‘Now if I’m reading your email correctly Inspector, you have been unable to trace the stolen tractors.’

BOOK: Death on High (The Lakeland Murders)
13.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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