The End of the Roadie (A Mystery for D.I Costello) (23 page)

“Who told you it’s –?” He stopped, a horrified look stealing over his face as he realized he’d trapped himself again.

So
, thought Angela,
not the sharpest knife in the drawer. I expect you’ll be the despair of the duty solicitor before we’re all very much older, but that’s not my problem.

“What’s your name?”

“Alex Lindsey.”

Angela suddenly felt very sleepy. She nodded across at Rick. “Arrest him, Rick. We’ll talk to him tomorrow at the station.”

“Oi! What am I under arrest for?” he shouted. “Since when has it been a crime to find money in an envelope?”

“I’d do you for impersonating a shelf-stacker, but unfortunately it’s not a crime,” replied Angela. “Go on, Rick,” she said. “Attempted blackmail; it’s past my bedtime.” Followed by Gary she walked along to the end of the building and reached the road. After a few moments’ wait, Leanne rounded the corner in the HAT car and pulled up in front of them.

“Guv! Oh, guv,” she breathed, as she got out and stood on the pavement.

“So you got to meet Brendan at last,” smiled Angela.

“Oh, guv, yes! It was fantastic… magic. I don’t know what to say. Thanks for sending me there.”

A thought occurred to Angela. “I hope you didn’t try to take a photograph of him or ask for his autograph.”

Leanne giggled. “Give me some credit, guv. I’m a professional woman on duty.”

“That’s all right, then. He’s a nice bloke, isn’t he?”

“The tops; I can still hardly believe it. You’d never guess what he’s done, guv.”

Angela thought she probably could, but decided to let Leanne enjoy the telling of it anyway. “What’s that, then?” she asked.

“Well, I knocked on the window and he opened the door and just for a second I thought I was going to wet myself. ‘
Get a grip, Leanne
,’ I thought. So I said, ‘Excuse me, Mr Phelan, I’m D.C. Leanne Dabrowska. I work with D.I. Costello. We’ve apprehended the man who came for the money and Inspector Costello says it’s now OK for you to call your brother to come back with the car. You can go home and she’ll be in touch tomorrow.’”

“Yes?”

“So he got out of the car and he said, ‘Did you say, Leanne Dabrowska?’ so I said, ‘Yes’ and, guv, he reached out and took my hand, like, in both of his. I thought, ‘
Now I really will wet myself
.’ I could hardly believe it.
But then!
He put both his arms round me and hugged me. Me! Brendan Phelan had his arms round me!”

Angela smiled. “He knows it’s you who found out about Kayleigh Joplin’s death certificate, and broke the threat hanging over him.”

“I was just doing my job, guv, but I’m really glad it was me doing that bit of it. He told me he’s got another charity gig
coming up soon.” Leanne grinned. “To be honest, I already knew from his website. It’s being set up because he had to pull out of the O2 one last week. He asked me to call his manager and get my name added to the list of his special guests. I can take a friend and we’re going to have really good seats,
and
we’re invited to the reception afterwards.”

“That’s wonderful. He’s very grateful.”

“
He’s
grateful? Guv, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

When Angela, followed by Gary, walked into the interview room the next morning, she could see Alex had maintained his ill-humour overnight. A morose expression on his face, he slouched on his chair beside the pleasant fresh-faced duty solicitor assigned to him.

Angela introduced herself and Gary to the solicitor, and turned her attention to the accused. “Good morning, Mr Lindsey. I trust you slept well?”

“How could I, when I’ve been banged up all night? Wrongful arrest, that’s what this is, and it’s causing me stress. Stress can cause a lot of health problems – I hope you know that, because I’ll be suing. You’ll be hearing from my –” He glanced quickly at the young woman by his side. “From her,” he said.

Angela’s eyes briefly met the suggestion of a smile in the otherwise impassive gaze of the young solicitor, but remained silent. It wasn’t her job to point out where the bailiwick of the duty solicitor began and ended. “OK, let’s get on, shall we?” she said. She switched on the tape and spoke the necessary introduction. “Tell me how well you knew Oliver Joplin.”

“What?” The question clearly surprised Alex. “Why do you want to know about him?”

“Arresting you last night for attempted blackmail is just part of a bigger picture.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I wasn’t trying to blackmail no one,” he grunted.

“Mr Lindsey, you must surely be –” She stopped. “You might not be aware of this, but what happened last night
arose directly as a result of our investigation into Oliver’s death.”

Alex sat up suddenly, a look of alarm on his face. “Oi! You ain’t pinning that on me – no way! I’ve got nothing to do with Olly’s death. We was mates.”

In spite of having had a very refreshing night’s sleep, Angela suddenly felt her energy drain a little. “Nobody’s accusing you of killing him.” She fixed his eyes with her own. “We’re trying to find his killer. Have you got any idea how serious a matter it is to obstruct our investigation?”

Alex leaned back in his seat. “We’ve been mates since school.”

Angela made a note.
Some people make deep and lasting friendships at school and even go on to build musical careers. Others do… other things
, she thought.

“Mr Lindsey, you were apprehended in possession of £800 which had, earlier in the day, been demanded as a blackmail payment.”

“Was it?” he asked. “I just found it in the envelope.”

“I believe you know it was. I believe you made the call for the money.”

“I didn’t make no call. And you had no right to take my phone from me last night. I’d better get it back in perfect working order, or else.”

“Very well; would you like to explain what you were doing in that supermarket car park at midnight, wearing the uniform of one of the shop’s employees?”

“I already told you. I borrowed the jacket from a mate. I was cold. Anyway, it’s a free country. I can go where I like, day or night.”

“You are aware that blackmail is a very serious crime?”

Alex shrugged, an insolent smile on his face. “Yeah, and you ain’t pinning it on me; no way.”

“What makes you so sure?”

His smile became smug. “Look, you can’t pin it on me, all right? Can I go now? You’ve got nothing.”

A wave of anger shot through Angela.
OK, Angie baby, go for it
, she thought.
See if you can smoke him out
. “You think you’re going to get away with it because Olly could, is that it?”

“Of course.” He stopped and blinked. “No! I don’t know nothing about no blackmail. You’re trying to trap me. Entrapment, that’s what this is.”

“I’d advise you to say nothing more, Mr Lindsey,” said the solicitor. Angela sensed within her a slight distaste for her client.

Just at that moment, the door opened and Jim entered. Gary leaned over and advised the tape of this fact. “What is it, Jim?” asked Angela. For an answer, Jim leaned between her and Gary and put a sheet of paper on the table. She glanced down to where his finger was pointing, then looked back up at him, nodded, and explained what was happening for the benefit of the tape, finishing with, “Well done; thanks, Jim.” Jim nodded and left the room. Angela turned back to Alex again.

“You might just as well tell us all about it,” she continued, “because we know anyway.”

“You know nothing and I’m saying nothing,” insisted Alex.

“Yesterday evening at approximately nine-thirty you made a call to Brendan Phelan’s mobile. I believe that you demanded he leave the money in the supermarket trolley, where you picked it up later.”

“No, I never, and you can’t prove it.”

“We can prove you made the call,” replied Angela, tapping the page on the desk. “What do you think this is?”

He shrugged again. “Dunno, some police harassment
document, I suppose; something to try and scare me into making a false confession.”

I’m beginning to wonder if you should be allowed out on your own
, thought Angela. Glancing quickly at the solicitor, she felt pretty sure the same thought was passing through the other woman’s mind. “It’s a printout of all the calls made from your mobile last night. It’s very clear. You made the call to Brendan. It lasted three minutes.”

“Oi! I never! That’s a lie. You’ve planted that evidence.” He leaned over the table. “There’s no way you could have got that, ’cause I deleted everything!”

Silence.

Too late he realized, once again, that he’d trapped himself out of his own mouth. He looked aghast at Angela and didn’t notice the solicitor turning her face to the wall, raising her eyebrows and blowing out her cheeks in disbelief.

“We didn’t need to check your phone, Alex,” said Angela. “We got in touch with your network provider this morning.”

The sulky look returned. Alex threw himself back into his seat. “You can’t do me for it, anyway,” he mumbled.

“Oh, really, and why is that?” asked Angela, even though she was fairly sure she already knew the answer.

“He ain’t going to press charges, is he? He can’t afford to let this get out. Look how it’s been for all those famous people getting done for sexual stuff – goes back years ago, some of it does. He won’t say anything. He doesn’t want his career ruined, does he?”

What a nasty parasite you are
, thought Angela. “On the contrary,” she said. “Brendan Phelan hasn’t the slightest problem with the whole world knowing he had sex with Oliver’s sister.”

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Alex’s features but he quashed it. “You’re bluffing. You can’t pull one over on me.
He’ll soon change his tune.”

“However,” continued Angela, as if he hadn’t spoken, “Oliver’s sister might end up not only very embarrassed but facing serious charges as an accessory to blackmail if the story gets out.”

The uncertain expression remained this time. Alex looked into Angela’s face as if trying to gain some direction. “You’re bluffing,” he said again, but his voice lacked conviction.

“You know her as Kay, do you?” asked Angela.

Alex’s puzzlement deepened. “Yeah, what of it?”

Angela leaned across the table. “Oliver didn’t keep you fully in the loop, did he, Alex?”

“’Course he did. We was mates – partners.”

Angela looked at him without speaking for a moment, to let the doubt settle in and take root. “Right, let’s leave that for a minute. After all, if anybody’s going to be prosecuted now, it’ll be Katie, aka Kay. You trying to make the pick-up last night is just a footnote for a very nasty, sordid story.”

Puzzlement creased Alex’s forehead afresh. “Kay, prosecuted? She ain’t done nothing. She’s the one that had the trauma.” He gained fresh energy. “He’s been paying for causing her trauma all these years, that’s all; only right, too, if you ask me.”

“Look, I’m a busy woman, Alex. I’ll just spell it out for you. I can assure you there’ll be no prosecution for underage sex, but there may very well be one for blackmail, and it will be Oliver’s sister, Katie stroke Kay, facing a serious charge.” Angela let a moment pass. “Let me say again: blackmail is a very serious crime, Alex. And it carries serious consequences.”

Alex licked his lips and studied Angela as he considered this. She could see his mind working, going over everything she’d said. He eventually arrived at her final comment. “Oi! No way! You’re not bringing me into this. I was just helping
out, just the once. I’ve had nothing to do with it all these years. I’m not going down for this!”

“I thought that’s how it might be,” replied Angela, with care. “We might be able to help you. But we can only do that if you cooperate with us.”

“What d’you mean?”

“This partnership with Oliver; it involved the selling of tickets, didn’t it?”

Alex started on his seat as if he would escape. He cast a frightened glance at the solicitor. “There’s no law against touting,” he said.

Angela paused to gather her thoughts. Alex Lindsey had no towering intellect and she wanted to be sure he grasped what she meant. Somebody had been trying to worm their way into Oliver Joplin’s ticketing scam, and she hoped finding out the name of that person could crack open the murder case. “You’re right, Alex,” she replied, as if he’d made a very astute point. “It’s not against the law. But selling fraudulent tickets is.”

“I never sold duff tickets!”

“No.” Angela kept her voice low and steady. “I wasn’t accusing you of that.”

“Everything I sold was kosher.”

“Yes, I understand that, Alex. You’re not in trouble for touting, but I need you to tell me how it worked.”

“Olly gave me the tickets, didn’t he? He’s in the business, he’s got contacts. He never had no trouble getting tickets.”

Angela cast a glance at Gary, which he correctly interpreted. “I saw you selling tickets,” he said, “at Hammersmith, before the show.”

Alex gave forth a sound which could only be described as a chortle. “Ain’t no point in selling them afterwards, is there?”

Angela and Gary laughed with him. “No, you’ve got me
there,” acknowledged Gary. “So did you just stand out the front and wave your tickets around?” he asked, knowing this wasn’t the case.

Alex sat up a little straighter in his chair and assumed the closest he’d come so far to looking businesslike. “It can’t hurt Olly now,” he said, “and it was a brilliant scheme. See, he’d know exactly how many tickets he’d sold through his program.” Both police officers pricked their ears up at the mention of a “program”, but didn’t want to interrupt the flow. Angela quickly made a note and resumed her attentive expression. “So, like, he’d say to me, ‘There are at least eight people coming tonight with duff tickets.’”

“At least?” queried Gary.

“Yeah, well. He would only know about the ones he sold through his program, but of course there could be others.”

“Oh, of course.”

“So, I watched,” said Alex. “I’d see them try to get in and get turned away. They either looked really upset or angry, or both. I’d let them get out onto the pavement again, and they’d stand there wondering what they were going to do; then I’d go up to them.”

Gary nodded. “A very simple operation.”

“Where did he get the authentic tickets?” asked Angela.

Alex shrugged. “He had an allocation, being on the crew, like. Sometimes he could get them from other crew members who weren’t going to be using theirs. He even bought them, proper-like, now and again.”

“Did Brendan have any knowledge of this scam?”

“No way!” Alex seemed horrified at the thought.

“A nice little earner,” said Angela. “Did he set up ticket selling websites?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah; he had to keep closing them down and starting again, mind, but that wasn’t a problem ’cause he
was really good at computer stuff. He developed a program. It was tops; reckoned he had a really good bargaining counter.”

“Was he planning to sell it?”

A frown crossed Alex’s features. “I don’t know nothing about the business side of things. I just sold the tickets for him.”

“But as his partner he must have discussed it with you,” said Angela, hoping he’d fall for the blatant flattery.

Alex’s glance, from under half-closed lids, suggested that he recognized the tactic. “Somebody was trying to buy him out. He told me he was getting emails that showed someone was on to him but he didn’t know who they were. Whoever was behind the emails was close, though – he guessed that. He was ready for them because he’d hacked into other programs, and he said his was better. He wanted to do a deal. He’d only worked the scam on Brendan’s concerts to see how it went, but he wanted to be part of a bigger outfit and he knew he had something to offer.”

“Did he have this program on a disc?” asked Gary. This question was met with a sudden silence. A shadow passed across Alex’s face, and he found something to absorb him in his fingernails. Angela and Gary looked briefly at each other. A memory rose up in Angela’s mind and she wrote rapidly on her pad. Gary glanced at the words “flat-search, empty drawer” and nodded. “Alex?” asked Gary, after a few moments.

“Yeah, ’course he did, didn’t he? Stands to reason don’t it? If he was opening up and closing down websites, he had to be able to work the same program.”

“Where is this disc now?” asked Angela.

Alex remained silent for several moments. “I don’t know,” he said, eventually.

“Did you ever have it?”

Another long pause followed. Angela recognized that
Alex’s chief emotion at this point was embarrassment. “Yes,” he said, finally.

Angela began to feel tired. “Where did you last have it?”

Alex studied his fingers again as he spoke. “In a pub near Ladbroke Grove.”

“So what happened to it in this pub?” asked Angela, but she already had a suspicion she knew the answer.

Alex slapped the table in his frustration. “Look, I was trying to do the deal, wasn’t I? Same with the blackmail,” he added, forgetting his previous assertion that he knew nothing about it. “I was carrying on where Olly left off. He had it all sorted, Olly. He was
ace
, I’m telling you. He wanted to buy into a bigger outfit and I was trying to… I was doing it for Kay.”

Angela and Gary looked at him in silence. They didn’t need any explanation. Alex’s complete inability to negotiate his way forward, to make any inroads into the world of organized crime, was plain to see. They ignored the final comment as a pathetic attempt to ascribe noble intentions to his underhand activities. “How did you set up this meeting in the pub?” asked Gary.