Death on High (The Lakeland Murders) (25 page)

BOOK: Death on High (The Lakeland Murders)
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Hall replied that Jenkins had indeed been clear, and he got up. Jenkins did the same, and Jane reached across to turn off the recorder. But Vicky didn’t move for a long moment.

‘We’re done for now Mrs. Harrison, you’re free to go’ said Hall.

Vicky got up slowly, moved towards the door, and stopped next to Jane.

‘You’re wasting your time. You really are.’

 

 

DI Andy Hall’s day didn’t get any better. When he returned to his office and opened his email there was an appointment with Robinson for 2pm. Hall knew that the best thing to do was just to carry on with his work until the appointed hour, and he certainly had plenty to do, and then just deal with Robinson when they met. But that just wasn’t how his mind worked, and he spent half of the intervening time coming up with a range of possible scenarios. It didn’t stop there, because by the time 2pm came round Hall had expanded all of the possible scenarios into full blown conversations.

 

As was often the case he shouldn’t have bothered, because what Robinson had to say took Hall completely by surprise. ‘I’ve just come back from HQ. I met with the Chief on this Ian Mann business. He suggested that we need to inform other agencies of what’s going on, including the County Council, who own the Abbey, plus English Heritage and a number of other institutions, both locally and nationally.’

‘I thought we’d agreed that we needed to protect Ian, and inform as few people as possible?’

‘You don’t need to lecture me Inspector. Since Mann isn’t actively involved in any rustling activities we’re not going to inform any of the agricultural agencies, especially because Mann got a sense that Fraser might have a source inside DEFRA. But when it comes to all these heritage types, I can’t really see them being involved with organised crime, can you?’

‘I don’t know sir. We don’t even know the extent of the conspiracy here. And I can’t see any practical advantage of informing all of these people about what’s going on. Aren’t they just going to want us to nick them all now, before Spedding and his boys get a chance to do more damage to a historic building?’

‘There is that viewpoint, of course, but the Chief is confident that everyone concerned will appreciate that we have the opportunity to smash a major conspiracy here. If we can catch the individual or company that is processing the stolen metals then we’ll have gone a long way to preserving much of what our heritage friends seem to call ‘the built environment’.’

‘Even if it means putting Ian Mann at risk?’

‘Don’t be dramatic Inspector, it’s not like you. So can I assume that you’ll update Sergeant Mann? In any case this operation will be over in just a few days.’

‘We hope.’

‘We know. The Chief was very firm on that point. Now, moving on to another matter. I understand that you’ve interviewed both Ms. Hill and Mrs. Harrison today?’

Hall had mentally rehearsed for this exchange, and it played out much in the way that he had expected.

‘Yes, sir, I have.’

‘Any progress?’

‘Modest. Vicky Harrison admits that she did call a domestic abuse helpline, and that the situation had escalated recently, but she denies having anything to do with Tony’s death as, of course, does Lillian Hill.’

‘That’s not modest progress Inspector, that’s no progress at all. You haven’t even got the beginnings of a case against anyone here.’

‘I’m afraid I disagree sir. Both women attempted to conceal the fact that they knew each other, Lillian Hill denies that she was having an affair with the dead man, but we believe otherwise.’

‘You believe otherwise.’

‘All right sir, I believe otherwise. But I’m confident that I can prove it, if we make further enquiries. And also we now know that Tony Harrison was regarded as being abusive by his wife, which does suggest a motive for Vicky Harrison too.’

‘So what are your next steps?’

‘Deep background on both women. If Lillian Hill wasn’t seeing Tony Harrison then who was  her regular caller, and is Vicky Harrison telling the truth about her relationship with her husband in those last months? She admits that she knew he was having an affair. Was she actively preparing to fly solo perhaps?’

Robinson groaned.

‘I see what this is Inspector. This is personal for you now, isn’t it? You’re so angry about what’s happening to DC Francis that you’re looking to take it out on me. You think that my concern for my church and my fellow parishioners makes me vulnerable to this kind of willful continuation of a case that is entirely without merit. I bet you’re an atheist too, aren’t you?’

‘That’s not the case at all sir’ said Hall, his manner as outwardly relaxed as if he’d just refused the offer of a cup of tea, ‘I’m pursuing this investigation because we have reasonable grounds to do so. Do you know how many people have fallen to their deaths in the last twenty five years from anywhere near that spot sir?’

‘No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’

‘Just one, Tony Harrison. And that’s pretty remarkable, when you consider that it’s one of the most popular circular walks in the Lakes.’

‘That means absolutely nothing at all, and you know it.’ Robinson’s tone was getting heated.

‘On its own, you’re right of course. But we do have a clear opportunity, and one of those women, and arguably both, had a motive.’

‘How so, both women had a motive?’

‘Lillian Hill may be the woman scorned sir.’

‘But even if that’s the case, and she pushed Tony Harrison over the edge, then why hasn’t Vicky Harrison told us about it long since?’

‘Yes, and we could equally ask the same question the other way around, couldn’t we sir? If Vicky pushed Tony over then why hasn’t Lillian come forward?’

‘So what’s your answer?’ Robinson’s voice had risen slightly, and his immaculate white shirt seemed to be digging slightly into his reddening neck.

‘I don’t have one sir. Not yet. And that’s why the investigation continues. Unless you’re ordering me to close the file. Are you doing that sir?’

Robinson was silent for a long moment.

‘No, I’m not doing that. If I didn’t have a personal interest, which I declared right at the very start of the case, then I would do so, because you’ve nothing to justify further expenditure and effort. But since I do have a very modest personal interest in the matter I’m going to allow you to continue. But I will be sending you a note of this meeting, and making it very clear that my firm recommendation is that you pursue this matter no further. Is that clear?’

‘Absolutely sir. In return I’ll drop you a note asking for details of exactly who at any other agencies has been informed both of Ian Mann’s identity and of his activities. I will need that on file in case Ian’s cover should be blown.’

Robinson’s shirt looked tighter than ever as he curtly nodded agreement.

Sunday, 24th March

 

 

‘It’s really kind of you to come out today Sally’ said Jane, as the two women laced up their boots behind Jane’s car, parked at the end of the road three quarters of the way up the Kentmere valley. ‘I know you were supposed to be seeing Bill’s mum today.’

Sally pulled a face. ‘Don’t be daft. I’m glad of the excuse. She’s an interfering old boot. When I married Bill I thought she’d soon peg out, she smoked like a lung back then, but I swear she looks younger now than she did then. It’s terrifying. I blame the health lobby.’

‘You told Bill I was having problems?’

‘I said things weren’t going well at work. He understands, or at least he says he does. And he should do, he moans on about his place often enough. Not that you’re moaning on Jane, that’s not what I meant.’

‘Things still tough at home for you too?’

‘It’s just a grind, the same every day. The kids moaning and wanting stuff all the time, and Bill is worse. Most days it’s bearable, but if I have a bad day at work, or I’m really tired, then it does get on top of me a bit. But let’s not talk about that, let’s get walking.’

 

It wasn’t much of a day, raining steadily and as dark as dusk, but Jane didn’t mind. It was good to feel the ground under her boots, and the fatigue slowly building in her legs as they climbed. For half an hour she didn’t think about work at all, but on keeping to their route as they climbed up into the mist and low cloud.

 

After another mile or so the going got easier and the path wider, and the two women fell into step side-by-side.

‘So is work really bad then Jane?’

‘Yes, couldn’t really be much worse. I’m being sent back to uniform, so I might as well quit now. That’s what they want me to do, anyway.’

‘Who’s they? Is your boyfriend one of them?’

Jane smiled and let it go.

‘No, Andy says he fought my corner.’

‘And you believe him?’

‘Actually I do, but I was in the wrong so it wouldn’t matter if he hadn’t. I disobeyed a pretty much direct order, and I still can’t work out why I did it.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well it’s not like I’m even sure that one of our suspects, or both of them, did anything at all. They probably didn’t, and we’ve got nothing that would stand up in court either way. I was in all day yesterday, by which I mean all day and half the night, and I couldn’t find anything that moves us on by one inch. It’s all been a huge waste of time. So it looks as if I’ve sacrificed my career for absolutely bugger all.’

‘Will you really leave?’

‘Probably. They might see sense and give me some sort of analytical job at HQ, probably in intelligence, but that’s duller than it sounds. But knowing our Super I’ll be seeing the old dears across the road in Millom or Barrow for the rest of my career, if I did decide to stay.’

‘But they can’t do that, can they?’

‘Do what? Send me out west and make me wear a pointy hat? You bet they bloody can. This is a big county, and nothing interesting ever happens in quite a bit of it, so there are plenty of policing purgatories out there Sal, believe me.’

‘Maybe you’d meet some new people.’ Sally was trying a bit too hard to sound upbeat, and Jane laughed.

‘Like who? Most coppers are miserable bastards. I’m not sure whether the job encourages the cynical and the bitter, or whether the job turns you that way. I expect I’m already like that.’

‘What does your mate Andy say?’

‘Not a lot. But after that excruciating drink we had he’s been keeping his distance, and I can’t say I blame him.’

‘Not a success?’

‘I would rather do school crossing patrol in Millom in a blizzard than have to sit through that again.’

Sally laughed.

‘Why was it so awful? I thought you two were soulmates.’

‘I never said that. I don’t know really. I really wanted there to be a spark, you know. But his wife’s only been gone five minutes, we work together, I’m out of practice, take your pick really. Could be one of a dozen reasons.’

They walked on in silence for a while.

‘So you really think the worst will happen?’ asked Sally. ‘There’s no possibility that this will all blow over and things will get back to normal? That’s what usually happens at my place when someone blots their copybook.’

‘No. And even if, by some miracle, I made real progress in this case, and let’s say my actions were vindicated, it still wouldn’t help.’

‘And you don’t believe in miracles anyway.’

‘I most certainly do not. You get what you deserve in this life.’ Jane started to feel a stitch building as the gradient steepened again, but she wasn’t going to let that slow her down.

 

 

Ian Mann had another long conversation with Andy Hall on the phone on Sunday afternoon. It didn’t reassure him.

‘So you’re saying that all these pencil-pushers know who I am and what’s going off tonight?’

‘Afraid so Ian, but as Robinson says they’re unlikely to be involved with the likes of Spedding.’

‘That’s easy for him to say, from the safety of a well padded chair in his office.’

‘Point taken, but realistically he may have a point. Ray is well up for it anyway. He’s going to be in position three hours before you turned up last time, and the cars will be deployed to their holding positions as soon as you’re at the Abbey.’

‘I hope Ray’s bladder holds out.’

Hall laughed. ‘Doesn’t bear thinking about, does it? But he’s done a tremendously thorough job. You know what a good copper he is when he actually puts his mind to it.’

‘I’ve seen the odd glimpse over the years. So afterwards I’m to clear out of the house immediately?’

‘No. I’ve convinced Robinson to let you stay undercover for just a bit longer, just in case we don’t round up Brockbank, Spedding and the rest for another day or two. You know what it’s like, swearing Warrants, getting the health and safety assessments done. All that stuff, it can take days, especially if we need Tactical Support to knock down any doors. But it won’t be long now. Are you looking forward to coming in from the cold?’

‘Aye, of course. It’ll be good to see Julie, my dad, even you lot at work. But in some ways I’ll miss all this. I’ve enjoyed the freedom to make my own decisions, you know what I mean?’

‘I do. You’re tactfully telling me that it’s good not to have me ordering you about the whole time.’

Mann laughed. ‘Robinson more like. But I suppose I like the risk, that feeling of working without a safety net.’

‘Not the best analogy Ian, under the circumstances, but I know what you mean. So you feel good about tonight?’

‘In lots of ways I do. I know where we’re going, and what I’ll be doing when I get there. And on balance knowing that Ray is going to be my guardian angel makes me feel better. At least I think it does anyway.’

 

 

And Mann didn’t have as long to wait for the off that evening. He was ready at eleven, and the knock came at half past. It was raining hard, and the wind was getting up all the time.

‘Thought we’d make an earlier start’ said Spedding as they drove, ‘this weather ain’t going to help. We’re going to try your hoist Gary, so that should let us get more stuff down on each load. But I still don’t think we’ll get it all off tonight, but let’s see, eh?’

‘Won’t water start pissing through the ceiling this time?’ asked Mann.

‘No. I’m told by someone who should know that it’ll take weeks before anything comes through. And we’ve had a good look at the place this week, there’s been no-one up ladders or owt like that. So we’ve not been tumbled or grassed-up.’

Mann didn’t like the sound of the person who should know, but he nodded and the rest of the drive passed in silence. Mann made an effort not to look at any of the cars they saw, but he still wondered if any of them contained Police.

 

When they were back up on the roof it took longer than Mann had expected to rig his hoist, because the rain was coming in at forty five degrees, and the wind was gusting higher all the time.

‘I hope this is worth it, marrer’ said Spedding, as they struggled with the last of the scaffold ties on the hoist. But after another ten minutes the new hoist was up and running, and Spedding and Mann settled in to a rhythm. Soon Mann was easily keeping pace, clipping out sections of lead and carrying them over to the hoist. But the rain and wind still made progress slow.

 

‘It’s amazing how much lead there is on a big old roof like this’ said Spedding, when they stopped briefly to eat. Mann put down his insulated flask, screwed the top back on and looked at what they’d done. His head torch flicked round what he could see of the roof, the rain slanting sharply through the beam. They’d taken most of the higher flashing and decorative lead work, but Spedding was right, there was still plenty left. ‘I reckon we’ve still only got half of it. It really is pissing down now Joey, are you sure it’s not going to get straight through those valleys if we strip them off?’

‘I was, but I see what you mean. Tell you what. Let’s get all the rest of the higher stuff tonight, and we’ll do all that lead guttering and stuff next time. Have you got another hour in you?’

‘And the rest Joey.’

‘Good lad. Right, let’s get back to it. Where there’s lead there’s brass. And we’ll just come back for the rest in a night or two, OK?’

 

 

Ray Dixon was enjoying himself. He’d got the keys to the ticket office that afternoon, and a side window gave him a great view of the Abbey. He had night vision glasses too, so he was able to see Spedding and Mann every time one of them came over to the edge to load the basket with lead sheeting. Rather them than me thought Dixon, tucking in to one of the sandwiches that his wife had made him. It was delicious.

 

Eventually he saw Mann and Spedding taking their hoist apart, and over the radio he warned the cars to be ready. He’d hand picked the drivers himself. They were all good drivers, and they were all calm, experienced coppers with it.

‘Just take the lorry. Let the car go’ he reminded them as he watched Mann and Spedding abseiling down the side of the building. Two minutes later the Abbey was deserted, but Dixon stayed where he was and listened to the radio traffic.

 

He’d guessed correctly about which way the lorry would go, west back towards Carlisle and the M6, so his best driver, a Sergeant called Dave Wilson, would be the lead driver, and he would guide the other cars. His headlights were off, but the car was rigged so the rear lights all worked as usual, and his co-driver had a pair of night vision glasses. Wilson had no trouble following the lorry down the dark lanes, staying well back and just following the light spilling from the truck’s headlights onto the trees and dry stone walls at the side of the road. He gave a calm and continuous commentary, and everyone else kept quiet. It was a textbook covert pursuit.

 

About a mile from the main trunk road Wilson reported that the truck had stopped at a gate into what looked like farm buildings, and its lights were now off. He held back, waiting for instructions, and then reported that the truck had gone into the yard. Dixon told him to get as close as he could, but proceed with caution, and he called the other vehicles forward to cover nearby roads. Dixon listened with mounting irritation as the drivers tried to work out who was going where, and where exactly they actually needed to be. Wilson’s radio was completely silent.

 

‘I’m at the gates’ he reported eventually. ‘Locked and everything is quiet. Maybe they’ve parked up, and left on foot.’

‘Could there be another way out?’ asked Dixon.

‘Nothing on this road that I can see, is there another lane nearby? Oh shit, I can hear a lorry accelerating.’

‘Is it coming back your way? Have you been clocked?’

‘Negative, negative. Which way down this lane should I go? Someone, quick, which way? They’re getting away.’

 

The next twenty minutes were completely chaotic. Wilson guessed and went the wrong way, and by the time he’d found the back entrance to the yard other cars were covering the roads all around, but there was no sign of the lorry. Dixon had worked up a private back-up plan in case of a total cock-up, and he sent his vehicles to cover the main roads, including the M6 north and south.

 

At dawn he stood them all down. There were no metal smelters close to the Abbey, so he had cars sent to every one within a fifty mile radius. They could call it a spot-check, or part of a national crackdown or something, so as not to risk blowing Ian’s cover. But Dixon knew it was no good. The lead had all been transferred onto another vehicle and was probably already miles away, heading to one of the big cities in the north east, north west or midlands. Maybe even on its way abroad.

 

Before he drove home Dixon caught up with Wilson at the yard, and met the farmer who owned the place. It took less than five minutes to discover that he was completely uninvolved, and not remotely happy about the whole thing either.

‘So what do you reckon on this job then Ray?’ asked Wilson, as the two men stood looking at the back gate. ‘Do you reckon they spotted the tail?’

‘Do you?’

‘Honestly, I don’t. You’d have to have fantastic eyesight to see us in the truck’s mirrors. I’ve done a lot of these, and I’ve never known it happen. And I can’t see them having a spotter out on the road, can you?’

‘No, the car left ahead of the lorry, and I counted out all the blokes who came in. There was no-one else.’

‘So I guess that leaves two options’ said Wilson, ‘but you’re the detective, not me.’

‘Not for much longer at this rate. But yes, either they did that as a routine precaution, or they were tipped-off that we’d be following. I hope to Christ they’re just careful.’

‘So what now?’

‘I’ll talk to that farmer again, now he’s calmed down a bit, and find out if he’s ever suspected something like this has happened before. Then I’ll head down the road and face the music.’

Monday, 25th March

 

 

Andy Hall woke from a vivid dream, lay still for a minute, and couldn’t resist the urge to check his phone. There were three messages from Ray Dixon.

 

He phoned Ian Mann. He was back at the house in Carlisle, and had been asleep too.

‘I can’t let you stay there Ian, you’re totally exposed as things stand.’

‘Hang on Andy, we’ve not finished the job.’ Mann’s voice sounded thick with exhaustion.

‘That doesn’t matter. You’re out, as of now. Get yourself in here in a few hours and we’ll start sorting out the arrests. The CPS has the files, and they know who they’re planning to charge with what. Your boy Brockbank is facing quite a long list.’

Mann was silent for a moment.

‘There is another way Andy.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Put a couple of guys on to watch this place, just for today, until we see if they tumbled us or were just being careful. Joey’s not stupid you know, and I get the feeling that the lorry and driver are supplied by his customer. So that might just be part of their routine. I honestly don’t think they’re on to me.’

‘So you’re suggesting that we let this run until you go back for yet another go at that roof? Robinson will never wear that, let alone the likes of Gory Gorham.’

‘Why not? I’ve already helped vandalise a priceless load of lead-work in an effort to catch the people behind this, so why not stay with it? It was the plan before, and everyone bought in. As it stands the job’s only half done at best.’

‘I take your point. By the way the lead you’re nicking isn’t old, it was all replaced in the 1960s, and a pretty bad job they made of it apparently. One of the heritage types who I spoke to about it all said you were doing the nation a favour by lifting it.’

‘There we are then. I should definitely see it through.’

This time it was Hall who went quiet. Suddenly he felt very tired.

‘So you want me to say to the powers that be that we want to have yet another go?’

‘Yes, and this time we nick them all after, no matter what happens.’

‘And what if the truck driver has other ruses up his sleeve to lose a tail? I don’t think we can assume that he’d only do it once.’

‘Fair point. We’ll need to get an electronic tracker on it then.’

‘Well it worked on the tea trolley’ said Hall, in what he fancied was a cockney accent.

‘What?’

‘Nothing, just a line from
The Sweeney
. It doesn’t matter. But listen Ian, was it the same lorry both times do you think?’

‘No, different.’

‘So we won’t be able to get something on it before the job, even if we could find it between now and whenever you go back.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

‘Which means that we’d have to get Ray Dixon, the last of the bloody Mohicans, to do the job while the lorry is at the Abbey itself, and there are bloody villains all over the place.’

‘Aye, I suppose so. But since he’s turned into such an action man lately I’m sure he’d be up for it.’

‘That’s what I’m worried about’ said Hall. ‘OK Ian, you sit tight for now. I’ll get a couple of lads outside within the hour, armed mind.’

BOOK: Death on High (The Lakeland Murders)
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