Separated at Death (The Lakeland Murders) (15 page)

‘Why not head home boss, get a few hours R&R. You’ll feel better for it tomorrow.’

Hall doubted that, but smiled and said he thought it was a good idea. But when Jane finally left, an hour later, he was still there, reading and re-reading. He had a strong feeling that there was something important, maybe even crucial, that he’d missed, but he knew that he always felt that way when he wasn’t making any progress on a case. But that still didn’t mean that there wasn’t something, somewhere, that would lead them to Amy’s murderer.

Mann had arranged for Ryan Wilson to answer his bail on the possession with intent charge at 9am. He would have liked to have made it earlier, just to get Ryan out of bed, but the solicitor couldn’t make it ‘til nine. But it still felt to Mann like the least he could do, under the circumstances.

He’d already emailed Ryan’s solicitor the good news - he’d be bailed again for further inquiries but serious charges were now very unlikely - so by the time he sat down with Ryan at ten past nine the lad already knew that he was off the hook. Jane Kennedy had drawn the short straw again, and didn’t look especially pleased about it.

Mann had heard a few of the local solicitors saying that this kind of work just wasn’t worth the candle any more, especially when they were called in to the station in the middle of the night, but with the housing market the way it was they stayed on the list. Even divorces were down in the recession.

‘Lucky you, eh Ryan’ said Mann. ‘You must have been shitting yourself when that copper pulled off the door trims.’

Ryan just smirked. It didn’t put Mann off.

‘But doesn’t it strike you as strange that the stuff turned out to be rubbish? Try to sell any of that on the street and you’d get lynched. I’ve got the lab report here, would you like to read it?’

‘You’re all right.’

‘To be honest I don’t understand a lot of it, but then chemistry never was my strong subject at school. But basically it says that you were carrying lots of gear that wouldn’t even count as a legal high. It’s nearly all legal, because it didn’t contain any active narcotic substances at all.’

Ryan was still smirking, but Mann was sure he was paying attention.

‘So this really is your lucky day Ryan. No charges, I’d bet my pension on it. But if I were you I’d be very worried indeed now, but not about us. Do you know what I mean, Ryan?’

‘No comment.’

‘There’s no need for that attitude now son, this is just a friendly chat. Look at my friendly face. And the tape recorder isn’t even on. Thought I might be able to do you a favour, that’s all. Believe it or not I’m worried about you. You see I think you’re in to something way over your head.’

‘Have you finished Sergeant?’ asked Kennedy. She’d had to rush the kids to the childminder so she could listen to this crap.

‘Ryan’s free to go whenever he wants, Ms Kennedy. But I thought he might be interested in knowing a bit more about how we came to stop him in the first place.’ Mann kept his eyes on Ryan.

Ryan didn’t move.

‘You see, I thought you’d be interested. Well you were right Ryan, it was a tip-off. Of course it was. We don’t have the manpower for anything else, and no offence but you’re hardly a target criminal as far as we’re concerned. You’re a nuisance, I’ll grant you that, but the way I look at it is that without the likes of you we’d need fewer coppers. And I like coppers to have jobs, which is why I like you so much, and why I’m telling you this now. Anyway Ryan, they didn’t make me a detective for nothing, and I have to say that it’s very odd that someone went to all that trouble, just to set little you up for a fall. I can only conclude that someone, other than every law abiding person in Kendal who’s ever had the misfortune of meeting you, really doesn’t like you. Not at all. Do you see where I’m going with this?’

‘Not really.’

‘I think you do. But anyway, look on the bright side. That’s what I always say.’

‘What bright side?’

‘Well, the only reason that you’re not facing a murder charge is that your little trip up to Carlisle gives you what looks like a rock solid alibi for the time of Amy’s murder. Without it you’d be looking at life, no question at all. You’d be in your fifties before you came out, if you ever came out at all. Of course I can’t promise that evidence won’t emerge that makes us reconsider, but I’d say that you’ve been remarkably lucky, so far anyway.’ Mann leaned back in his chair.  ‘But I’m going to give you a bit of advice, from an old Kendalian soldier to a young one. If I were you I’d make sure that I found out whoever it was who grassed you up, and make sure that they understand that you’re not happy about it. Do you think you’re man enough to do that Ryan?’

Ryan didn’t say anything, and Mann let his words hang for a few seconds.

‘On your way son. But if you do need any help getting it sorted, I’ll help if I can. It would be a fair trade, you could get a monkey off your back, and I might get a collar worth feeling.’

Ryan laughed.

‘You’d never grass, is that it? Well someone grassed you up properly Ryan, and went to a lot of trouble and work to do it too. And, in my considerable experience of people like you, work is something that they very rarely want to do. It’s usually why they became criminals in fact. So, like I say, one of your own has got something against you Ryan, and they’ve tried to do you a very bad turn. And in your world that’s just not something you can let go. Not ever.’

Hall had suffered another restless night. He had hoped that the exercise would help him sleep, but it hadn’t. The family had all eaten together, his wife had cooked, and that had felt very odd. The kids seemed to be trying to act as if nothing was happening, and he wasn’t sure if that made it feel better or worse. He wondered if they’d say anything about what had happened to their friends at school, and he worried if it would affect their school work.

He’d dreamt that he arrived at work and his office was gone. Instead he had to go to an attic, where building work was going on, and find a desk at the end of a row. A WPC that he had worked with years before was at the desk next to him, and gave him a pad and paper. He had absolutely no idea what to write.

On Monday morning he was gone before anyone else was up, as he usually was, and played Gillian Welch and David Rawlings in the car as he drove. Something about the interplay of voices always sparked something in his mind. He’d had to scrape the car windscreen before he left, worrying, as he always did, that the noise would wake the kids. It was still dark, but the sky was already midnight blue away to the east. It looked as if it would be another lovely day.

The incident room was already buzzing when Hall arrived. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he felt encouraged. Maybe today there’d be a breakthrough. And before he’d even reached his office he knew that there had.

Jane Francis had got up as soon as he’d come in, and so had Ian Mann. They cut him off well before he’d reached his door. ‘Something you need to see boss’ said Jane, holding up what looked like the print out of an email. She held others in her left hand.

Hall didn’t take off his coat, but led them in to his office and they sat down. Jane pushed the email across the table to him. It was to John Hamilton, dated twelve days before, from a woman whose name Hall didn’t recognise. It told him that his daughter was seeing Ryan Wilson.

‘Who is this Joyce McHugh?’

‘Former employee of the Hamiltons in Kendal. Was with them for donkey’s years, and retired last year. Friend of John Hamilton’s mum apparently.’

‘So did he reply?’

Jane gave Hamilton another email. It was brief, thanking Joyce, but making it pretty clear that he wasn’t going to talk to his daughter about it.

‘Is that it?’

‘Yes, she didn’t write back again. At least not as yet’

‘I wonder why she didn’t just go in to the office or round to his house, or call him on the phone, rather than writing an email?’ said Hall. ‘Doesn’t that sound unusual for an older person?’

‘With respect boss’ said Mann, ‘isn’t that missing the point? John Hamilton told us that his daughter didn’t have a boyfriend, and didn’t mention this email, even when he knew that we’d arrested Ryan. Doesn’t that strike you as significant at all?’

‘Significant, certainly. And we’ll need to talk to him about it. But let’s not jump to conclusions.’

Hall knew what they were thinking. He’d empathised too much with a potential suspect, and spending a few off-duty hours with him had been a mistake too. He’d let sympathy and fellow-feeling get in the way of good judgement. In retrospect he agreed, but he was still certain that John Hamilton had not killed his own daughter. That simply couldn’t possibly be true.

Mann seemed to read his mind, but more likely had guessed Hall’s reaction. ‘Do you want me and Jane to go and see John now boss?’

Hall thought about it.

‘Let’s have the team meeting and then decide who does what.’

‘When do you want to start?’

‘Ten minutes. Give everyone a chance to read their emails.’

Hall booted up his computer, hung up his coat and made himself a cup of tea. By the time he came back the computer had fired up, and he opened his in-box. Right at the top was an email from Robinson, asking when he intended to serve  a search warrant on John Hamilton.

‘Jane’ Hall shouted through his open office door. He tried not to look angry.

‘I’ve just had an email from Robinson about this possible development with John Hamilton. Did you show him that email?’

‘Yes boss.’

‘Well you’ve no business doing that. Anything significant that happens you come to Ian Mann or me first. Is that clear?’

Jane nodded. Hall thought she looked close to tears as she left. When he glanced up from his computers he saw her standing at Ian Mann’s desk, and a minute or so later Mann knocked at the door. Hall beckoned him in.

‘You know Robinson’s been up to his usual tricks? Caught her in the car park this morning and asked if there had been any developments. She’d been up half the night going through Hamilton’s emails and so she told him what she’d found. Not really her fault, boss.’

Hall was annoyed, and almost entirely with himself. He knew he’d never be the best man manager in the world, but he was usually fine with the likes of Jane Francis. What wasn’t there to like? She was clearly intelligent and enormously hard working. He knew nothing of her private life, but guessed that the job was pretty much at the centre of everything for her. She had that intensity about her. Hall nodded. ‘We don’t have time for this now Ian.’

‘I know boss, but it’s worth saying something when you get the chance. Tell her you know what happened at least. What you think matters to her, I’m sure it does.’

Hall smiled to himself when Mann left the room. It wasn’t often that Ian Mann came over all touchy-feely.

The team meeting added up to a summation of a great deal of effort and cost, for precious little tangible reward. The background checks on Amy’s family had simply confirmed what they already knew. John Hamilton’s finances were sound, the girlfriends that he’d had after his wife left hadn’t given the team any cause for concern. He’d been sad - in the old fashioned sense - and very focused on his children and his work, and that’s why the relationships had failed. No violence, no alcohol or substance abuse.

The recession had been especially unkind to Simon Hamilton however, as well as to Amanda and her new husband. As far as Hall could gather they’d all carried on with their property investments long after the recession had started, expecting that things would improve soon. But they hadn’t. On paper Simon had done worst, and had put one of his businesses into receivership just a few weeks before, but his lifestyle seemed pretty much unaffected. He had a house on the shores of Windermere, a flat in Manchester, plus a place in Italy. No mortgage on any. Been married for many years, no children. It was difficult to trace exactly how much he was worth because he used a big-name accountancy firm, and they’d apparently set up a variety of off-shore entities for him. HMRC had taken a good look at him quite recently, but had come to a settlement and had no current interest.

Things didn’t look all that comfortable for Amanda Hamilton and Robert Preston either. They were by no means poor, but Amanda was already a great deal less wealthy then she had been. They too were keeping their lifestyle going, but unlike Simon they were now in debt, and the Staveley house, bought with cash after the divorce, now carried a mortgage of rather more than twice the value of Hall’s own house. Preston’s declared income was low too. Overall, the financial security that Amanda had enjoyed for all of her married life had pretty much vanished.

That was all very interesting, thought Hall, but it didn’t take them one inch closer to finding Amy’s killer. Because how could they possibly connect the killing of a seventeen year old girl to any financial troubles of the immediate family? There still had to be something that they were missing.