Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7) (28 page)

BOOK: Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7)
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‘Aye, he did. He’ll be stronger next year, mind. His name will be on that pot soon enough, you mark my words.’

‘Something to look forward to, eh?’

 

 

DI Jane Francis wasn’t surprised to get called in to the Divisional Superintendent’s office, but she was surprised to see the Chief there.

‘We’re in exalted company today, Jane’ he said.

‘I can see that, sir’ she said, smiling.

‘No, I meant that John Winder has brought a whole team of lawyers with him. A phalanx, even. Oh, I see, you already know. You were just joking. Very droll, Jane.’

‘Thank you, sir. They’re hard to miss, really. There are six of them in total, plus assorted drivers and PAs. We’ve run out of clean mugs, I hear.’

‘And what are they saying?’

‘That they are willing to disclose parts of their client’s medical records, to confirm that he isn’t expected to live more than another six months, maximum. Beyond that they’ve been mainly asking what our case against their client is actually based upon.’

‘And what does the CPS say?’

‘Much the same, sir. They say that if he doesn’t confess then we probably won’t be able to charge him. Not at the moment, anyway. But at least we do know that it’s him now.’

‘Because he confessed to Andy Hall?’

‘Yes, sir, that’s right.’

‘But Andy wasn’t wearing a wire, so it’s entirely un-corroborated. Is that the case?’

‘I’m afraid so, yes.’

‘And why was that?’

‘He was with DS Mann, sir. But Winder indicated to Superintendent Hall that he wished to speak alone. Both officers confirm this account.’

‘I see. And why did Andy agree to Winder’s request?’

‘Because he was fully aware of the weakness of our evidential position, sir. And, as I say, at least this way we do know who was responsible for the killing of Frankie Foster.’

‘Could Winder have been covering for someone though, Jane? After all, he hasn’t got long to live.’

‘It’s possible of course, but unlikely in my judgement.’

 

For the first time the Chief looked encouraged.

‘So answer me this, Jane. Do you think that, when Winder and his band of legal-eagles are safely off the premises, that we could issue a press release saying that our investigations continue, but that we’re not looking for anyone else in connection with the murder of Frankie Foster?’

‘Yes, sir, I think we could. And we could say something else as well, sir.’

‘What’s that?’

‘That we’re bringing charges against the persons responsible for the series of thefts by deception against old folks, including conspiracy charges against a local council officer.’

‘Excellent. But wasn’t there a possible manslaughter as well?’

‘That’s right, but the CPS says that there’s not enough evidence to proceed.’

‘And you’re happy with that?’

‘In this case, yes, we are. I just thought it might make a bit of a double-whammy, as it were. You know, putting it all out on one release. Show we’re really on the job.’

 

The Chief smiled, indulgently, as one might at a precocious child.

‘I hear you, Jane. But that would be a terrible waste. We’d get no coverage for the conspiracy at all. So here’s what I suggest we do. Release on the burglaries today, because we’re charging on those. And then go with Winder tomorrow.’

The Superintendent nodded so hard that his collar must have started chaffing.

‘Will do, sir.’

‘Well then, that’s an excellent day’s work, Jane, well done. And to your team too, of course. There have been doubters, I won’t deny it, but we held the line, didn’t we?’

It was Jane’s first direct contact with the Chief since the case had started. But this didn’t seem like the time to mention it.

‘We did, sir. Thanks for your support. And one other piece of good news, while I’m here. On a more personal note.’

‘You and Andy are getting married? That’s excellent news.’

‘No, sir. I’m having a baby.’

‘Well, I see. That’s excellent news too, isn’t it? Better, possibly. Well done to both of you. We’ll be sorry to lose you, obviously.’

‘I’m not going yet, sir. And I’ll be coming back. You can count on that.’

‘Of course, yes. I didn’t mean…. We’re an equal opportunities employer, Jane. You know that.’

‘I do indeed, sir. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better go and get the Winder interview over with. Us sitting here has probably cost him about five grand in fees. Although I doubt that’s too much of a worry for him. And of course we’ll all be going for a drink later, sir, if you’d care to join us.’

 

The Chief couldn’t have looked more surprised if Jane had told him that he was the father of her child.

‘Thanks very much, but I need to get back to HQ, meetings you understand. But I’m sure that Superintendent…’

‘Same meeting, sir.’

‘Yes, of course. Silly of me. Well, Jane, don’t let me keep you. And well done again. If there’s one thing I like it’s a tidy file, following a well-ordered investigation. It’s a thing of beauty, Jane, and it brings with it a feather or two for your cap as well.’

 

 

Ian Mann was buying when Keith Iredale walked in.

‘You’re a bloody master of timing, lad. What can I get you?’

‘A pint of whatever you’re having.’

‘A wise decision. And, talking of which, I hear that you finally charged your girlfriend, plus Taylor and that creep from the Council.’

‘Aye, the lot. It took bloody ages, because Eric Graham cried like a bairn, and he couldn’t bloody wait to pin the blame on Jez Taylor. Meanwhile he’s still denying everything, which even his lawyer says is a shit plan. If he tries that on in court he’s looking at drawing a really long stretch.’

‘Happy days then.’

‘Aye, exactly. I’m made up about it, honestly.’

 

PC Nobby Styles walked in, dressed in his street clothes, and pumped Iredale’s hand hard.

‘The hero of the bloody hour. Anyone who can deck Jez Taylor and get him nicked for something worth some proper jail time, then you’re a bloke I want to drink with. What are you having?’

‘Ian’s just got them in.’

‘Bugger me. That’s worth celebrating as well. I’ll have a pint then, Ian. Just a small one, like.’

 

A few other officers slapped Iredale on the back, or shook his hand. One or two did both. They all offered drinks, and more than a couple were accepted over the next hour or two. The place was packed now, and Mann had to push his way back to where he’d left Iredale, still propping up the bar. Or, more likely, the other way round.

‘You all right, lad?’

‘Aye, Ian, never better. But then you already knew that, didn’t you? You big bastard, you.’

‘Haven’t I kept telling you, lad? There’s nothing like it, is there? It doesn’t matter how much shit you have to take from the bosses and the cons, they can’t take moments like this away from you, can they? The best feeling in the bloody world, getting a right little shitbag like Taylor safely off the streets.’

‘There’s no need to rub it in, mate. And I’d already decided. I’m staying. I quite fancy your job, to tell you the truth.’

‘Glad to hear it, Keith. And I hear there’s a vacancy for an ACC, so I might have a go for that.’

Iredale laughed. ‘The only way you’d ever get that job is if you had to fight people for it. Like a bare-knuckle interview. I bet they already do that, over in America, like.’

‘That might be a better way than however it is they choose the pillocks who get these jobs at the moment.’ Iredale pointed unsteadily over Mann’s shoulder, and Mann turned round. ‘Evening, Andy. You going for the ACC’s job then?’

‘I might, if I wasn’t in the dog-house with the Chief over not getting corroboration of Winder’s confession. I tried to explain that if you’d been right with me he’d never have said a word, but that didn’t cut much ice. He spent twenty minutes telling me how disappointed he was with me, and I spent the next twenty minutes agreeing with him. It didn’t seem to help much, though. Anyway, Keith, you did get a nice result today. Really, really good. I’ve got no clue how you did it, but who cares about that? What can I get you?’

 

Sandy Smith had turned up with a couple of her team, and the throng parted as she approached Jane.

‘What’s your poison, love?’ she asked, nodding at Jane’s empty glass. ‘You look a lot more sober than most of the judges I meet.’

‘Just a mineral water, thanks.’

‘Bollocks. You’ll have a gin and tonic, and like it.’

‘No, I can’t.’

‘Get a cab home. Christ, get Andy to carry you.’

‘It’s not that.’

Sandy thought about the available evidence for a second.

‘Fuck me. You’re up the duff. Congratulations, though you must be off your fucking head, like.’

‘Shhh, Sandy. No-one knows.’

‘I hope Andy does.’

‘Of course. I mean the team don’t know.’

‘Oh, right. Like that, is it? Mineral water it is then.’

 

But Sandy hadn’t even moved when one of the civilian staff came up to Jane.

‘Congratulations, Jane. When’s it due?’

‘February the 14th. Thanks. But how the hell did you know, Janice?’

‘Is it a secret? Someone from HQ told me when I was checking on where those new computers are. She got it from the Chief’s PA, apparently.’

‘And have you mentioned this to anyone?’

‘No. Well, yes. Maybe one or two people.’

 

So Jane wasn’t surprised when Hall told her, a few minutes later, that half a dozen people had already congratulated him.

‘Come on’ he said, ‘let’s get you out of here. Your feet must be killing you.’

‘Which means that you’ve had enough. But you’re right. I could do with something to eat.’

They pushed their way through the crowd, accepting more congratulations and the odd joke as they went.

 

‘Bastards’ said Hall, smiling, when they got out into the warm evening air. They strolled slowly down through town, Jane commenting on the design of a pushchair that she saw.

‘No’ said Hall firmly, ‘I want one with a disk brake. You can’t be too careful, you know.’

Jane laughed. ‘I take your point. Beast Banks is pretty steep.’

‘Exactly. Take it too fast and you could end up in the mayor’s parlour.’

‘I’m happy, Andy. Are you?’

‘Of course. I’m really looking forward to the next few months. Kids are the gift that just keep on giving, believe me.’

‘Shouldn’t that be the other way round? We give, and they take?’

‘Up to a point, but it’ll be worth every penny, I promise. Of course we’ll love our child more than they can ever love us. That’s a given, really. But the best we can hope is that our love gets handed on down the generations, from our child to theirs. Better than any inheritance, that is.’

‘It will be.’

‘I know it will. It’s just natural, really. And it’s funny, even after all these years in the job I still can’t quite work out why so many of our regulars seem like the products of shit parenting.’

‘It’s just a cycle though, isn’t it? They had shit parents themselves, and so it goes on. It’s the opposite of what you just said, really.’

‘I know, but how did it start? That’s what I want to know. Who were the first parents in the chain? Why did they rebel against biology like that?’

‘Chemistry, I expect.’

‘Drugs?’

‘Booze, more like. Didn’t they use to call gin ‘mother’s ruin’?’

‘They did, which is why I’m going to drink ours up, long before you have this baby. I’m not taking any bloody chances.’

She laughed, and he joined in. ‘When did you, love?’ she said. ‘When did you?’

Epilogue

 

5th January, 2015

 

 

‘You are a skinny little sadistic bastard’ said Ian Mann, getting up out of the saddle and trying not to look at the road rising so relentlessly ahead of him.

‘They don’t call it The Struggle for nothing’ said Iredale, pedalling smoothly past.

‘I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t so bloody cold.’

‘All that fat should be keeping you warm.’

‘I’d teach you a bloody lesson for that, lad, if I could catch you.’

‘That’ll be the day. The pub’s not far now, anyway. You taught me to fight, and I’m teaching you to cycle. That was the deal, remember.’

‘Aye, I remember. There’s nowt to learn with the pedalling job though, is there? You just have to be as thin as a bloody lurcher and have a massive masochistic streak.’

‘Stop moaning, and dig in. It’ll be downhill all the way to Ambleside on the way back.’

‘Aye, and I’ll catch my bloody death then, I expect. I just wish I’d let you to fuck off to Sellafield now. I wouldn’t have to be doing this.’

‘That’s true. But you need to work off all that turkey and mince pies. So keep pedalling, mate.’

‘Aye, I will. What bloody choice do I have, like? And like you say, the pub’s not far now.’

 

 

For DI Jane Francis it felt like the last day of term, maybe even the last day of school. There’d been cake, which she’d brought in, and which everyone had tucked into, despite the emails from the Super concerning officers’ waist sizes. She’d joked with him that she hoped she was excused from censure on that point, and when he finally understood what she meant he said that she was. And Andy Hall had come down from HQ to take her home, although he’d said that he had sod all to do anyway, and that no-one would miss him.

‘I feel like one of those football managers who has the full support of the Chairman,’ he’d said on the phone. ‘He just keeps asking when my paternity leave is starting.’

 

Jane checked her email one last time, and noticed one from the analysis team with the Foster murder case reference in the title. She opened it, and was reading the attachment when Hall knocked on her door and came in.

‘Now this will interest you, Andy’ she said.

‘Is it my pension projection?’

‘I get that weekly. Did you know that you’re worth more to me dead than alive?’

‘I’m not surprised. Anyway, what is it?’

‘Summary of John Winder’s Will. Bloody hell, he was worth a few quid when he popped his clogs. But there are a couple of interesting bequests. He’s made young Matt Somes a full partner in his farm, with his sons. And he mentions young Tiffany Moore as well.’

‘She’s inside now though, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, she drew five years in the end, just before Christmas.’

‘So what did Winder leave her? His best set of lock-picks?’

‘He’s left her money to fund higher education, if she goes that way when she gets out. He recommends criminology.’

Hall laughed, and slapped his hand down on the table, which wobbled and creaked. ‘I bet he does, given the amount he must have spent staying out of jail for those last few months. He didn’t mention us, I suppose? A nice little bequest would come in handy, just now.’

‘Oddly enough he didn’t, love. And I keep telling you, don’t worry. We’ll be fine, I’m certain of it. No-one can foresee what the future holds, Andy. Not even you. So let’s just enjoy the moment, shall we, love?’

BOOK: Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7)
4.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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