Stone Killer (14 page)

‘Oh, I quite understand that, sir,' Beresford said, trying to sound grave and serious.

‘No, you don't,' Woodend said dryly. ‘But when your legs ache like they've never ached before, an' your back feels like it's broken in three places, you might just begin to get some idea of what I'm talkin' about.'

‘Can I ask a question, sir?' Beresford asked.

‘Aye, if it's a short one, an' I can answer it without puttin' too much pressure on my already-strained brain cells,' Woodend agreed.

‘Why me?'

‘What exactly are you askin'? Why did I choose to give you the questionable honour of workin' on this case?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Why not you? You're young, you're eager, an' from what I saw of you on the Pamela Rainsford case, you can handle most situations you find yourself faced with.'

Besides, Woodend added mentally, from seeming to be – surprisingly – his strongest ally, the Chief Constable had done a sudden about-turn when it came to providing extra manpower, and now he was having to make do with what was available.

‘Where do you want me to start, sir?' Beresford asked, with an enthusiasm which Woodend could see might soon become exhausting.

‘You can start by gettin' yourself out of that uniform,' the Chief Inspector said.

‘Pardon, sir?'

‘Members of the general public are quite happy to have uniformed officers find their missin' dogs for them, an' tell them what time it is, but when they're bein' questioned about anythin' as important as a murder, they like to talk to a suit. You do
have
a suit, don't you?'

‘Oh yes, sir,' Beresford said, adding silently to himself, my mum made sure of that. She even went with me for the fitting.

‘So go home an' put your suit on. Then, once you're properly kitted out, I'd like you to do a bit of investigatin' for me,' Woodend continued. ‘An' do you have any idea what it is we'll be investigatin'?'

‘The Judith Maitland case,' Beresford said, without a second's hesitation. ‘Her husband wants you to re-open it.'

‘Is that what it said on the news?' Woodend asked.

‘No, sir. All it said on the radio was that Major Maitland was behind the siege. The other lads thought he just wanted to get his wife released, but I knew it couldn't be as simple as that.'

‘Did you, indeed?' Woodend asked. ‘An' what was it brought you to that conclusion?'

‘If all he wanted was to free her, he wouldn't have gone about it the way he has.'

‘So what
would
he have done?'

‘He'd have broken into the gaol and sprung her.'

‘That wouldn't have been easy,' Woodend pointed out.

‘It would have been a bloody sight easier than what he's decided to do instead.'

‘Takin' over a bank? That doesn't seem too difficult.'

‘No, sir, but
holding
the bank is. Every police marksman in Lancashire is looking down his sights at that bank at the moment, and by tomorrow, the Army will probably have got in on the act. And what would he have had to deal with if he'd gone for the prison instead? Half a dozen shotguns. At the most.'

‘You've got a point,' Woodend agreed.

‘So he doesn't just want her freed – he wants her name cleared. And that's why he sent for you.'

‘The famous Chief Inspector Woodend,' Woodend said sourly.

‘You are famous, sir, at least in Central Lancashire. I know it's not something you like to hear, but it's the truth.'

‘Interestin'. You seem to think you know me better than my own mother ever did,' Woodend said. ‘So I don't like bein' a celebrity?'

‘No, sir.'

‘An' what do you base this theory of yours on?'

Beresford shrugged. ‘It's hard to say, exactly. I suppose it's the little things – the way you walk, the way you dress, the way you talk to other people.'

Woodend lit up a cigarette. ‘Well, Constable Beresford, since you seem to be an expert on all things Woodendian, tell me how I feel about this case?'

‘You feel it's difficult, sir. Probably one of the most difficult you've ever handled. And even if Judith Maitland
is
innocent, you're not sure that you can prove it.'

‘An' this particular branch of your theory about me is based on what?' Woodend asked.

‘On the fact that I saw you puke up your ring all over the High Street,' Beresford said.

I
f he'd been asked to make a list of those most likely to visit him in his office, late in the evening of the first day of the siege, Woodend would have put Stanley Keene very low down it. Yet there he was. And not dressed, as the Chief Inspector might have expected him to be off-duty – in something camp and flamboyant – but instead wearing a very conservative blue suit, that fitted perfectly with the serious expression he had on his face.

Woodend rose from behind his desk to shake hands – Keene's handshake was remarkably firm, but then he might have been making an effort with that, too – then sat down again.

‘Why don't you take a seat yourself, sir?' he suggested.

The caterer shook his head. ‘I'm too nervous for that,' he said. ‘So if you don't mind, I'd rather stand.'

‘I don't mind at all,' Woodend said. ‘Would you like to tell me what's on your mind, Mr Keene?'

Keene took a deep breath. ‘When you and your sergeant were talking to me about Judith earlier, you never once mentioned the fact that the man in the bank was her husband,' he said accusingly.

‘You're right, I didn't,' Woodend agreed.

‘Why not?'

‘To put it quite simply, I wasn't at liberty to divulge that information to anyone at the time.'

‘And even if you had been, you wouldn't have divulged it to an old queen who would immediately have rushed off and blabbered about it to all her slack-wristed little friends,' Keene said bitterly.

‘You're way off the mark if you think that – and you're way out of line, an' all!' Woodend said harshly.

Keene flinched under the attack, but gamely stood his ground. ‘
Am
I off the mark?' he asked defiantly. ‘Am I really?'

‘Yes, you bloody well are! I was very impressed by how much you seemed to care about Judith Maitland, Mr Keene, and if I'd have been able to tell anyone what was goin' on, I'd have told you.'

Keene looked down at the floor, as if he felt a sudden urge to give his immaculately polished shoes a thorough inspection.

Neither man spoke again for perhaps a full half minute, then the caterer lifted his head again and said, ‘Well, I am surprised.'

Woodend grinned. ‘I surprise a lot of people,' he said. ‘I seem to have a real talent for it. Now if that's settled, I'd be grateful if you'd leave, because –' he lifted up his notes for Keene to see – ‘I really do have quite a lot of work to attend to.'

‘I—' Keene began.

‘A lot of work,' Woodend repeated.

‘I … I can understand that,' Keene said, ‘but couldn't you spare a minute or two more of your time? Please!'

‘All right.'

‘I think we got off on the wrong footing, just now. That was my fault, and it's a real tragedy – because the reason I came here was to help.'

‘To help? Do you have some new information for me, Mr Keene?'

‘No,' Keene admitted. ‘I don't. And that's not what I meant.' He paused for a moment, before continuing. ‘When do you think you'll be seeing Thomas again, Mr Woodend?'

‘That's not up to me, Mr Keene. Maitland's the one who's in control at the moment, so I'll see him when he
asks
to see me. But I really don't see what that's got to do with—'

‘Take me with you!' Keene pleaded.

‘What?!'

‘Take me with you. I know Thomas. I'm not sure that he likes me as much as I like him, but he
does
trust me and he
will
listen to me.'

‘An' what is it you'd like to say to him?'

‘I'd like to tell him that this isn't what Judith would want at all. That she won't be happy that he's terrifying other people, even if he is doing it for her. That if he hurts even one of the hostages, she'll never be able to live with herself again. I'd tell him I know why he's done it – and that I'd probably have thought about doing it myself if I'd been brave enough – but it still isn't right.'

‘An' you really want to do this?' Woodend asked.

Keene gulped. ‘I really want to do this.'

‘The bank's a dangerous place for anyone to enter right at this minute, you know.'

Keene clamped his hands on the back of the chair on which he had refused to sit earlier, and shuddered. ‘You don't need to tell me that. My bowels are turning to water just thinking about it. But I owe Judith so much, and this … this is the only way I can repay her.'

‘I'm not goin' to give you any promises,' Woodend said, ‘but if you make yourself available the next time I'm called to the bank, I'll ask Major Maitland if he's willin' to talk to you. And if he is – and if I judge it to be right at the time – I'll allow you a couple of minutes with him.'

Keene looked down at his long, slim hands. ‘Thank you!' he said. ‘Do you know, on the way over here, I was hoping – praying almost – that you'd say no. But I'm glad you didn't.'

The Chief Constable had locked himself in his office, and was talking on his private phone – the one which didn't go through the station switchboard – to a number in London.

‘Yes, Home Secretary, I agree that Mr Slater-Burnes is a very capable chap, indeed,' he was saying. ‘And I can't thank you enough for sending him to us, because there's no doubt that he
did
help us to avoid making some very serious errors in the initial stages of the operation.'

‘Good, good,' the Home Secretary said, almost complacently. ‘That's what he was there for.'

‘But the situation has worsened in the last few hours,' Marlowe continued. ‘Now that the press have got hold of the full story—'

‘Yes, how
did
that happen?' the Home Secretary wondered.

‘I couldn't say. But I can assure you, there were no leaks from my office,' Marlowe lied. ‘Anyway, that's beside the point. The press
have
got hold of it, and whilst it was a big story before they learned about Major Maitland, it's a
huge
one now. Which means – inevitably – that we're all suddenly under considerably more scrutiny.'

‘Yes, I know that,' the Home Secretary said. ‘I'm expecting questions in the House about it.'

‘And given the changed circumstances, I can't help wondering if perhaps Mr Slater-Burnes isn't now just a little out of his depth,' Marlowe continued.

‘Out of his depth?' the Home Secretary repeated. ‘What do you mean by that?'

‘Merely that, while I'm quite willing to believe that he's an expert in all the theoretical aspects of police-work, he does show a tendency – which I'm sure the press will pick up on and blow out of all proportion – to be a little lost when he finds himself in more practical situations.'

‘Be more specific, if you don't mind, Chief Constable,' the Home Secretary said, with a sudden hardness in his voice.

‘Of course,' Marlowe said smoothly. ‘Major Maitland's main aim, as you know, is to have his wife's case re-opened. It's always been my view that we should stand firm against any demands backed up with firearms—'

‘Hear, hear!' the Home Secretary said.

‘… but it's not a view that Mr Slater-Burnes seems to share. He's all for giving in to the Major's demands. I've gone along with him so far – albeit reluctantly – because he
is
a senior Home Office official, and because he
does
have the backing of Chief Inspector Woodend, who—'

‘Woodend?' the Home Secretary interrupted. ‘Isn't he the man who left Scotland Yard under a bit of a cloud, a few years ago?'

It was all going so beautifully that Marlowe had to restrain himself from chuckling.

‘I think you're being rather generous in the way you phrase that, Home Secretary,' he said. ‘The truth is that Woodend was practically
booted
out of the Yard.'

‘Then he certainly doesn't seem to be the right man to be handling this situation.'

‘Oh, I agree with you entirely on that, Home Secretary. But the problem is, you see, that as long as we continue to pursue the approach Mr Slater-Burnes seems so eager to follow, we really have no choice
but
to use Woodend.'

‘Why?'

‘Because he's the only officer Major Maitland seems willing to speak to.'

‘I see.'

‘My main concern is the safety of the hostages,' Marlowe said, ‘as I'm sure yours is, too.'

‘Quite.'

‘But men in our positions are forced to look beyond that – to take a wider view.'

‘A wider view?'

‘If this whole unfortunate incident ends in a bloodbath – and given the way things are being conducted at the moment, it very well might – there will be public outrage. Heads will roll. And not just heads at the lower levels. Not just heads at the
county
level.'

‘Go on,' the Home Secretary said cautiously.

‘I'm not really concerned about my own position – I just want to do the right thing,' Marlowe said, ‘but since Mr Slater-Burnes seems to have no interest in protecting you from all this, I feel the responsibility falls on me.'

‘I find myself in something of a dilemma,' the Home Secretary said worriedly. ‘On the one hand, I quite take your point about the difficult position I seem to be being thrust into. On the other, I don't want to seen to be undermining one of my own officials.'