Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7) (14 page)

But it is funny. Well, strange, anyway. I never thought that the coppers would have such short memories. Never thought Andy Hall would. I always expected they’d only have two suspects, just the two of us, and that it would do their heads in trying to work out which one of us it was. And maybe it’ll come to that yet. In a way I hope it does. I’m ready, whatever happens. Ready for anything, me.

Saturday, 26th July

Andy Hall considered, very briefly, whether it would be all right for him to go in to work without Jane. She had her own car, of course, and it was only a ten minute drive, but even so it wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t need to ask her how her morning sickness was, because he’d heard her in their
en suite
as he was getting dressed, and he wasn’t really formally involved in either case anyway. At least he wasn’t at the moment. So he really shouldn’t be in any hurry. He shouldn’t even be going in at all. He was still thinking about how to broach the subject of why he was when Jane walked in to the kitchen. He thought she looked about equal parts pale and tired, but he knew better than to mention it. He poured her tea, put the toast on, and kept his mouth very firmly shut.

Jane took a cautious sip of her brew, and looked at him over the rim.

‘Are you able to help out on the Pearson death, Andy?’

‘Yes, if that’s what you want.’

‘You’d stay out of the Foster case?’

Hall took his time before he replied.

‘Of course, unless they turned out to be connected.’

‘That’s not likely though, is it? Or is there something you’re not telling me?’

‘There’s absolutely nothing I’m not telling you. Of course not, Jane. All I’m saying is that two suspicious deaths within a few miles and a few days is an odd co-incidence, that’s all.’

‘But that’s all it is, surely? We’ve established that Foster wasn’t robbed, for a start. The bloke didn’t have anything worth nicking.’

‘Agreed, and it’s just a hypothetical point. Forget I mentioned it.’

‘What is it then? The old copper’s nose twitching again?’

‘That’ll be hay fever’ said Hall, smiling. ‘Come on, eat up. And make sure you get a decent meal at lunchtime today, OK? I don’t want to hear that it’s just been biscuits and crisps from that crappy vending machine.’

Even as he spoke Hall wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. But Jane smiled, reached over and put her hand on his arm.

‘Of course I will, love. I’ve got someone else to think about now, haven’t I?’ She noticed his expression. ‘Other than you and the girls, of course’ she added quickly.

Hall drove and Jane read her emails. ‘Sandy is on her way in. She’s sent through the PM and her report on the Pearson case. You want me to forward it to you and tell her that you’ll take the meeting?’

‘Fine’ said Hall cautiously. ‘If that’s how you want to play it.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Andy’ she said, laughing. ‘You don’t have to walk on bloody egg shells with me the whole time. I am a biologist, remember, so I do know what’s going on in my body. I’m not going to bite your bloody head off, you know. And we’ve already agreed on this, haven’t we?’

‘Yes, sure. I’ll drop a quick email to the Chief when we get in, just to let him know what’s going on. And I’ll copy you, obviously.’

‘You’d bloody better’ said Jane, trying to keep a straight face.

‘All right’ said Hall, ‘I get it. I’m worried about you, that’s all. I know what it’s like, being SIO on your first murder enquiry.’

‘I don’t get as stressed as you though, Andy. You can’t even look at a glass without thinking how empty it looks.’

He laughed. ‘So I don’t have the sunniest of outlooks, I admit it. And this job does have a way of confirming your prejudices, doesn’t it?’

‘Actually, Andy, my little ray of sunshine, I’m often surprised that you’re not more cynical about people and their motives.’

‘You mean you’re surprised at how bloody gullible I am?’

‘Oh, yes, that’s what I really meant.’

Sandy Smith only seemed about 20% angrier than usual. But that was, Hall reflected as he listened to her, starting from a fairly high base of generalised annoyance. But then she was always like this when she and her team were especially over-worked.

‘Don’t waste my fucking time, Andy’ she said, by way of an introduction. ‘As soon as I’m finished with you I need to talk to Jane. A proper murder, she’s got. With buckets of blood and everything. But you won’t have seen the pictures, will you, Andy? And Keith doesn’t need to, do you, son?’

‘So Mrs. Pearson’s death was an accident, then?’ asked Hall.

‘You’ve read the PM, mate. No signs that she put up a fight, and no evidence that any of her injuries was inconsistent with falling down those stairs. And as to any physical evidence in the house or on Mrs. Pearson’s clothing I can’t see anything that gives any kind of contra-indication. If it wasn’t for that lass running from the house, and the fact that stuff was nicked, we’d be looking at an accident, pure and simple.’

‘Nothing at all to make you think otherwise?’

‘No. I just told you. And I also told you not to waste my time.’

‘I won’t. Just one thing, and then I’ll let you get off to Jane. We don’t have any very precise description of the items stolen. The daughter can’t really remember, and the neighbour isn’t sure either. So if we recovered items of jewellery, am I right in assuming that you’d be able to tie them back to Mrs. Pearson?’

‘That’s the first remotely sensible thing you’ve said today, Andy Hall. Yes, we could. Prints or DNA would do it of course, but even if there aren’t any there’s a high chance that we’d be able to tie the chemical signature of the velvet lining of the box to the items. They’ll have been in contact for years, see. So aye, it’s a racing certainty, is that. But have you recovered anything for us to look at?’

‘We’re working on it.’

‘Well Tonto says that your thief didn’t dump the gear, not anywhere near the
locus
anyway, so you might need to get lucky. But I’ve always said it, you’re just a lucky bloke, Andy Hall.’

Ian Mann had nipped out for cakes, and he was glad he had. Because Sandy didn’t call him many names during the meeting that followed her session with Hall and Iredale, and he had the feeling that her heart wasn’t really in it. So he decided to risk asking a stupid question of his own.

‘So you’re sure that John Tyson’s DNA was on the gun?’

‘Yes, in two places.’

‘But he said he never handled it.’

‘Well, his DNA was there, whatever he says. Small samples, but complete. It’s his all right.’

‘Anything else?’ added Jane. ‘I didn’t understand this paragraph in the consultant’s report about the lubricant.’

‘Nor did I, so I phoned the bloke up. Snooty, patronising bastard. Talked to me like I was a lab rat, until I set him straight on one or two points. Anyway, what he was saying was this. The gun oil used was a standard type, widely available, but it seemed a bit odd to him. You’d think he was talking about vintage wine, the way he was going on. But to cut a long story short he thinks that either the gun or the lubricant had been kept at very low temperature, and for a fairly extended period.’

‘How long?’

‘Months, or even years. Below freezing, the whole time.’

‘And what did he make of it?’

‘Nothing. He said maybe the oil was stored somewhere very cold. He may have been a posh twat but his method seems sound. If you find it, report it. It’s not my job to work out what any of it bloody means, any more than it was his, now is it?’

‘Of course not’ said Jane. ‘Well thanks, Sandy. You’ve certainly put Tyson very firmly back in the frame for the Foster killing.’

‘You could look a bit more pleased about it.’

‘No, I’m grateful, honestly.’

‘You look like you could do with another cake. Ian, how many are left?’

‘Two.’

‘Right, one for me, and one for Jane. Unlucky, Ian. I expect you’ve got a mung bean salad or something else that’s equally healthy to chew on, haven’t you?’

‘Something like that, aye.’

‘You do know that it gets you in the end though, don’t you?’

‘What does?’

‘Life, lad. Life. I’d say cheer up and have another cake, but there are none left now, are there?’

When Sandy had gone Jane checked her emails. She just had time before the team briefing. When she read the one from Terry Chambers, the forensic accountant that the force used for more complex jobs, which meant any that involved actual sums, she swore out loud. Chambers strongly suspected that Foster had indeed owed Jez Taylor money, and although he didn’t have absolute proof a quick scan of the email attachments suggested that he was right. She tried to calm herself down, and to remember what it was that Andy always said when an enquiry started to fragment, with leads appearing from everywhere. ‘One line good, two lines better’ wasn’t it? But it didn’t feel good right now. None of it did. It felt like her already limited resources would end up being spread far too thinly. Andy had a knack of concentrating on the right lines of enquiry, of subtly switching his own emphasis and the team’s resources, and she was never sure if it was all the product of unalloyed skill, or whether an element of blind luck was involved as well. Perhaps she was about to find out.

The urge to knock on Hall’s office door was, she realised, only fleeting. She already knew what she was going to do, no matter what Hall might say. So why ask at all? And as she felt her heart rate fall back she realised that she was actually feeling confident: in her ability to lead the team, and in her judgement too. So she printed out Chambers’ email, and walked out into the open office with it.

The team was gathering, some standing, others perching on the edge of desks. Hall was standing on his own, behind Ian Mann, and Jane wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t that Hall was unpopular, rather the reverse, but no-one stood next to a senior officer if they didn’t have to. You never knew what you might get asked.

‘Morning, everyone’, she said, smiling. ‘Before we make a start on the Foster killing a quick word on the suspicious death of Mrs. Pearson. In the light of forensic and medical evidence it seems unlikely that we’ll be upgrading this to a full murder investigation, but of course it is still a very serious matter. Given that we’re so very stretched I’m delighted to say that Superintendent Hall has kindly agreed to take charge of that investigation, aided and abetted by DC Iredale. So thanks for that, Andy. Now, moving on to the Frankie Foster murder many of you will have already seen the email from Terry Chambers, the forensic accountant. I won’t go into the detail, read it for yourselves, but the long and the short of it is that we can be pretty certain that Taylor had loaned Foster money. Obviously this changes things considerably. Did he go round to Foster’s place to collect, wave a shotgun about, probably just for effect, but ended up firing it? So let’s go over everything on Taylor again, his alibi, the lot. OK?’ Jane paused, tried to make eye contact with everyone, looking for the nods, and then went on. ‘But that’s not all we’ve got to go at. Because the specialist lab report on the gun is in, and guess what? John Tyson’s DNA is on it, yet he claims never to have touched it. What’s going on there? How do we square that circle? So the same again, please. Let’s go over everything we’ve got on him and deepen and widen the investigation. DS Mann will divvy up the tasks, but let’s really crack on again today, please.’

Jane wasn’t surprised that Andy Hall followed her back to her office, and she wasn’t especially apprehensive either. It wasn’t as if he were her line-manager any more.

‘Yes, Andy?’ she said, as she walked round to her side of the desk.

‘I just wanted to ask about John Winder. Well, more to make a suggestion, really.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Just that since we’re re-looking again at Taylor and Tyson, especially their alibis, it might make sense to do the same with Winder.’

‘I don’t agree. Unless there’s some new information about Winder that I haven’t seen yet. It’s been quite a morning already, love.’

‘No, it’s not that. There’s nothing new.’

‘What is it, then? Sorry, Andy, but you know how this works. I’ve got a total of just over a hundred man-hours a day of investigative effort on this, signed off on for the next five days. That’s it. I just don’t have the time to look again at any other persons of interest, and that includes Winder, unless I’ve got a very good reason. I know you fancy him for it, but Taylor is just more likely. You must see that. He’s a right nasty bastard, and we’ve got a proper motive, one that’s right in the here and now as well. Bloke owes him money, bloke doesn’t pay, Taylor tries to put on the frighteners. It all goes tits up somehow, and bang, that’s it.’

‘So why keep looking at Tyson as well, then?’

‘Don’t give me that, Andy. You know as well as I do. The man’s DNA is on the bloody murder weapon, which he insists that he never handled. What more do you want? Of course we’re going to look very closely at him as well.’

‘Do you have a favourite, of the two?’

‘Should I have?’ Jane was trying hard not to let any annoyance creep into her voice.

‘Strictly, no, but we’re all only human. So which one is it, if you had to choose?’

‘I honestly don’t know. That’s the truth. Like I say I’m leaning towards Taylor, but I’m far from certain.’

‘All right, so if you concede that it might be either of them, then why are you excluding John Winder? I just can’t see it.’

‘Don’t put words in my mouth, Andy. I’m not some grass-green new DS, I know what you’re up to here. I’m not excluding Winder at all, just pursuing two other more active lines of enquiry first.’

‘It amounts to the same thing though, doesn’t it? In practice, I mean.’ Jane didn’t reply, so Hall went on. ‘So my advice is to include Winder in the follow-up enquiries.’

‘Your advice is noted with thanks, Superintendent.’

Hall smiled, shrugged and got up. He left the room without another word and Jane sat, stock still, for another twenty seconds. Then she looked down at her screen, and got on with her work.