Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7) (21 page)

‘Maybe they know we’re closing in.’

This time Hall laughed. ‘Are we?’

‘All right, but they’re not to know that we’re not.’

‘Have they contacted each other today?’

‘No. I checked that first, as soon as I knew that they’d both dropped off the radar.’

Hall got up from his desk, and paced up and down behind it. The worn patch of carpet behind the desk in Jane’s office was evidence that it was a familiar routine.

‘I’ve been thinking about this a lot…’ he said.

‘You don’t say.’

‘…and I just can’t see this being anything than a one man job. Why involve two people in this? I just can’t see any logical reason.’

‘I don’t know. Safety in numbers, maybe?’

‘But more risk of detection. And given that they were grassed up last time I can’t see either of them taking that risk again, can you?’

‘So what would you do now? Get those jokers to find Tyson and Winder again, sharpish?’

‘No. They’ll be panicking now. Pull them off and let’s go and find them ourselves.’

‘What, you and me?’

‘Why not? Tell you what, I’ll go looking for Winder and you take Tyson.’

‘No, Andy, the other way around, if you don’t mind.’

Hall smiled, held up his hands, and Jane had a brief but unpleasant sense that she’d just been played. Hall had a way of being a move or two ahead, and usually it impressed her. But not this time.

‘How are you feeling?’ asked Hall, moving towards her.

‘OK. A bit nauseous, but that’s probably because some of our officers make me want to throw up.’

‘But not me, I hope.’

‘No, Andy, not you. And I’m sorry, OK?’

‘Me too.’

‘What for?’

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something.’

She laughed, and kissed him quickly on the cheek. She’d never done that at work before, not once. So it had to mean something.

‘You be careful, Jane. You’re probably right, and Taylor’s our man, but remember that Tyson and Winder were involved in an armed robbery attempt. So they’re both potentially dangerous, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘You too, Andy. And I’ll be careful, you know that. Some things are worth much more than a collar, aren’t they?’

Ian Mann was finding it all too easy. ‘This is bloody ridiculous, lad. We could be dressed as fucking clowns, flapping about in size forty boots, and this bloke still wouldn’t spot us.’

‘Unless he’s got coulrophobia.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Fear of clowns. I saw it on the internet. I bet he’d spot us then, if he had it, like.’

‘That’s not even a proper thing, is it?’

‘Aye. People are scared of everything these days. You’d probably get benefits for it. You could go on the sick, like.’

‘Aye, you’re probably right. So what are you frightened of?’

‘You’ll laugh, but I don’t like birds. Not close to, I mean. I don’t mind them flying about and chirping and what-not. That’s fine with me.’

‘That’s big of you.’

‘So what are you afraid of then, Ian? Nothing, I bet.’

‘Not much, no.’

‘What about dying?’

Mann shrugged. ‘It happens to all of us. To everything too, I dare say.’

‘Weren’t you scared though, back when you were in the forces?’

‘Aye, sometimes. Keeps you sharp, does a bit of fear. Makes you feel alive too, funny enough. But when I thought about it afterwards I reckoned that what I was really afraid of was letting the others in my unit down. They rely on you, do your mates.’

‘And did you, you know, ever kill anyone, Ian? In the line of duty, like.’

Mann turned to look at Iredale.

‘Don’t be a twat, lad.’

Iredale took that as a yes.

The two men didn’t speak again for a few minutes, until Mann reached for the ignition.

‘Matey’s on the move, by the looks.’

The drive from the housing estate to a car park in the centre of town only took a few minutes, and Mann watched Taylor park in a disabled bay.

‘I fucking hate that’ he said. ‘I’ll get after him. You stay in the car. Get parked where you can and be ready to come if I call, OK?’

It was twenty minutes before Mann did call.

‘Taylor’s in a cafe, meeting some bloke. Come to me and you follow the other one when they leave. He arrived on foot so you should be fine. Looks like an office worker. He seems to have a lanyard round his neck, like a wanker. Doesn’t mean that he’s not a killer of course, but probably not during office hours.’

Iredale grinned, and rang off. He ran from the car park until he was close to the cafe, because he didn’t want to miss anything. He looked for Mann, couldn’t see him, then looked again. There he was, on the opposite side of the road, looking straight at him.

‘How do you do that?’

‘What? Doesn’t matter. Your man’s on the move. Remember what I said, Keith. Better to lose him than get spotted, so take it nice and easy, OK?’

Iredale nodded. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something, Ian?’

‘What’s that?’

Iredale held out Mann’s car keys.

‘You’ll go far, son. Coolness under pressure, that is.’

But Iredale was soon sweating as he walked. Partly because it was another warm day, but mainly because Mann had just told him what the DI had said about the two teams who had lost Tyson and Winder. And, whether he stayed or left the job, he didn’t want to leave with a reputation for being as much use to anyone as a chocolate soldering-iron. But he needn’t have worried, because the man he was following wasn’t going far or fast, and Iredale watched him stroll into the local council offices, and swipe his card. The woman on reception had smiled and said something as he’d passed.

Iredale gave it a minute, then walked into the office, felt the cool rush of the air conditioning, and badged the woman behind the desk. She didn’t seem phased, or especially curious, and that was the reaction that he’d hoped to see. They’d have coppers in all the time, for one reason or another. He certainly didn’t want it to seem important to her.

‘The guy who just came in?’

‘That was Eric. Eric Graham.’

‘And which department?’

‘He’s a social worker. Shall I buzz him for you?’

‘No, that’s fine. That explains it. Nothing to worry about. Sorry to have troubled you.’

Iredale turned to go, then came back to the desk.

‘I’ll forget my head next, at this rate. I know what I wanted. It’s been on my desk for weeks. You know how it is, when things are really busy.’

She smiled in agreement, although the desk in front of her was entirely empty, except for a copy of a celebrity magazine.

‘It was your IT manager I needed to see. Could I have a quick word?’

Afterwards Iredale tried to reach Mann on the phone, and couldn’t. He wasn’t worried, because the chance of Mann losing Jez Taylor was nil, but he wanted to share his news. He also wanted to get back to the station as quickly as possible, so he jogged all the way, and met Hall just by the front entrance.

‘Have you got a minute, sir?’

‘Is it important?’

‘I think so, sir. I can connect Jez Taylor to the robberies. He’s been getting his info from a bloke who works for the Council. No doubt about it, this bloke’s accessed the files of each one of our victims, even though he had no work-related need to, and DS Mann saw him meeting with Taylor only an hour ago.’

‘Well done, Keith, that’s great.’

‘Do you want this bloke nicked, sir?’

‘No, definitely not. Let me talk to your DI first.’

‘There’s something else, if you’ve got a second.’

‘Sorry, Keith, I haven’t. But you’re almost there with this one. It looks like you’ll be able to nick Taylor and Tiffany now for the burglaries, and that’s a great result whatever happens with the Foster killing. I’m sure that the DI will be delighted. Now, I must dash.’

Iredale stood and watched as Hall half-ran towards his car. He could have walked faster, he reckoned. Then he turned and headed towards the office. He was thinking about Tiffany Moore and her mum. But mainly he was thinking about Tiffany.

It didn’t take Hall long to find John Tyson, in fact it took precisely as long as the drive out to Kirkstone, followed by a ten minute walk to where he was working. It was the same stretch of wall, but a few yards further up the fellside. It was hot, and even though Hall had left his jacket in the car he could feel sweat prickling at the nape of his neck by the time he reached Tyson. He hoped that Tyson would speak first, so he could catch his breath.

‘What do you want?’

‘Just a chat.’

‘Oh, aye? I’ve heard that one before, Mr. Hall. How did you find me?’

‘Where else would you be?’

Tyson smiled, slowly. ‘Aye, where else would I be? That’s about right, is that.’

‘You enjoy the work?’

‘You didn’t come all the way up here in your fancy shoes just to ask me that.’

‘You’re right. I didn’t. So you knew you were being followed?’

‘Oh, that. Oh aye, of course I did. Spotted them from the cottage before I even left Troutbeck. They probably want to give up on the spying job, like.’

‘I think you can rely on that.’

‘Had a bollocking, have they?’

‘Something like that. So why did you do it? Give our officers the slip, I mean. It makes you look guilty.’

‘What, more guilty than the fact that the bloke who got me locked up for all the years it took my kids to grow up and fucking hate me was killed with a gun that was nicked from where I bloody work?’

This time Hall smiled.

‘Good point. You’re right. Not as guilty as that. So why did you give them the slip?’

‘It wasn’t hard, and I didn’t want them dragging around after me all day. The only good things about this job is that you’re left alone, and you get a bit of time to think. I didn’t want those two prats pointing a bloody periscope at me from behind yon wall, like.’

‘I don’t think we issue them with periscopes.’

‘Well you bloody well should.’

‘Thanks for the tip. So what do you think about? When you’re out here, working I mean.’

‘The same as everyone, I suppose. All the shit that means nowt really, but which seems important at the time. And I think about my kids. Goes without saying, does that.’

‘What about Frankie Foster?’

‘Not really, no. It’s a long time ago. You know full well that I didn’t kill Frankie, but that doesn’t mean that I’m sorry he’s dead. Because I’m not.’

For the first time Tyson stopped working, and stood up. Hall noticed a fleck of blood on his hands, crimson against the grey dust.

‘And did you see Frankie, or John Winder come to that, after you were released?’

‘No. Hardly ever. Like I told your mates, I avoided Frankie, though that’s not easy in a little village, but he soon learned that when I walked into the Mortal Man that it was time he walked out, like.’

‘What about John?’

Tyson shook his head, and went back to work. ‘We don’t move in the same circles, do we? Not any more.’

‘But you’re still old mates, aren’t you?’

‘Cell mates, aye. We were, for a while. But maybe neither of us want to be reminded of those days.’

‘And that’s all there is to it, is there?’

‘Aye, it is. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.’

But Hall didn’t move.

‘Come on, John. Help me out a bit here. You don’t want the dynamic duo back on your case, do you?’

Tyson was choosing a stone, and he didn’t look up at Hall.

‘All right. But I expect you pretty much know it all, don’t you? That’s what you like, isn’t it, Mr. Hall? You like knowing what people aren’t saying. What they’re just thinking. We talked about you a lot, when we first inside.’

‘So what aren’t you saying? That it was you who discharged the weapon at the bank? Is that why you don’t see John Winder? Because you’re ashamed?’

‘Aye, it was me. I just lost it, like. The others had all been on at me because we were late, see, and I just lost my temper. The rest of them had fired it at one of the old quarries before, but I’d missed out. I just wanted to hear it, like.’

‘And that’s why you fired a weapon right in the town? Because you wanted to hear it?’

‘I know, what a fucking idiot. Still you lot would never catch anyone, if we weren’t all such twats.’

‘So how did the others take it?’

‘John and Matt Somes? They both stood by me, didn’t they? We all said nowt, and we all did our time. Except poor old Matt of course, and he never even got out. Except in a plywood box, like.’

‘I was sorry to hear that.’

‘Were you? That’s just something people say, isn’t it? We could see it coming a mile off. He just couldn’t take it in there.’

‘And how about John Winder? How did he react to being inside?’

‘Did John do it, like? Is that what you’re asking? Did he use that gun on Frankie just to get back at me? Two birds with one stone, like? No, not a chance. Why would he? Christ, the bloke has it all. I walk past his house sometimes, and you should see the cars he has. Why risk all that? And he’d never do something like that, anyway. I know the man, and it would never happen. He won’t have forgotten, but he forgave a long time ago. Even when we were inside, like, I was always going on about Frankie, but John just used to let it wash over him, somehow. I never understood it, to tell the truth.’

‘So if you didn’t kill Frankie, and John Winder didn’t, then who did? Jez Taylor?’

‘Jez? Not a chance.’

‘You know him then?’

‘Who doesn’t? It’s a small world, is this, if you’re local, born and bred. He’s a nasty little bastard, that’s true enough, and I don’t doubt that Frankie owed him a few bob. But it takes bottle to blow someone’s head off, close-up like. And he’s a right little cowardly shit is Jez. He might want to do it, but he never would.’

Hall nodded.

‘So if you didn’t do it, and neither did John Winder or Jez Taylor, then who did?’

Tyson had fitted a large stone in the wall, and glanced up at Hall before bending to select the next one.

‘You’re the copper. You work it out.’