‘Yes, I’ve seen the sign.’
‘Someone killed him.’
‘I see.’ His face grew pale. ‘Was it …?’
Harper nodded. ‘We’re certain it was. That makes him their third victim.’
‘Tell me what I can do to help you,’ Nicholson said.
‘Who put you in contact with the brothers?’
‘I was looking for a loan to buy this business. The banks had refused, they thought it was a risky venture. A friend of mine told them about it.’
‘Who was that, sir?’
‘David Howe, the councillor.’
Councillor Howe. Well, well. Another link. Harper made sure his face showed nothing.
‘How did he come to know them, sir?’
‘I’ve no idea. I never asked.’
‘When you were starting out with your engineering works, I believe you had an investment from Tosh Walker.’
Nicholson reddened. ‘Everything was above board. I had no idea he was … who he was. I paid him back, and that was the end of it.’
Harper smiled. ‘I’m sure it was fine. How did you come to him?’
‘Through a friend of my father-in-law, actually. Another councillor. Mr May.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Howe, May, the Smiths. Like a web. He needed to find the brothers and drag the truth out into the daylight. ‘We’ll catch them, I promise you that. But in the meantime, if there’s any contact from the Smiths, tell us. You can telephone me at Millgarth.’
‘What did you make of that?’ Harper asked as the tram rattled through Harehills.
‘I think we need to dig deeper into our friends on the council, sir,’ Ash said. ‘Much deeper.’
‘What did you do with everything you took from the Smiths’ office?’ he asked Walsh. The station was busy with the shift change, the night men assembling, the day patrol looking relieved as they went off duty.
‘That empty room at the end of the corridor, sir. There’s a ton of papers.’
‘Let’s hope they tell us something.’
‘We should know all about their dealings by the time we’ve finished. Fowler’s looking at everything right now. I’m going to give him a hand. Doesn’t get them under lock and key, though.’
‘Soon,’ Harper said as Walsh left. He prayed he was right.
‘You’ve heard what Fowler’s going to do?’
Ash nodded. ‘I tried to dissuade him, but his mind’s made up.’
‘Maybe this war won’t last long.’
‘That’s what they say about every one of them, sir. And they’re always wrong.’
‘We’re going to need a sergeant.’
‘Walsh is ready for promotion,’ Ash said.
He considered the idea. The young man had learned a great deal in two years. He had a strong eye for detail, and his initiative had grown.
‘Yes,’ Harper said. ‘Do you think Sissons can cut the mustard after we wrap up the burglaries?’
‘I like him. A little while in here should toughen him up.’ Ash grinned. ‘I can take him under my wing.’
‘That’s all settled, then.’ Easily and simply. About the only thing that was likely to be.
EIGHTEEN
The rooms above the pub were stuffy, no breeze at all. Harper heard a loud voice from downstairs in the bar, a man on the verge of anger, and he tensed, ready to go and help. A few seconds and it faded away; Dan was in control of things.
He leafed through the paper. More articles on South Africa. Crossley was right, it was inevitable now. Everything was in motion and no one wanted to stop it. Britain needed its battle. Posters had gone up around the city, urging men to volunteer as special constables. If enough came forward, they’d be fine. Surely, the fighting couldn’t last too long. A trained army against an unorganized group of Dutch farmers? Maybe Ash was wrong and it really would be over in a few months.
Before coming home he’d gone back to the pubs he’d visited a couple of days before. More hushed words in quiet corners, tiny nuggets of information. May’s brother ran a building supply company; Howe was their biggest customer. He also bought most of his stone from Nicholson. It was like a club where everyone knew everyone else and traded favours. But no mention of any North Leeds Company.
‘You’ve been quiet all evening,’ Annabelle said.
‘Thinking,’ Harper told her. ‘These cases. And Fowler’s told me he’s joining the army.’ He almost spat the word.
‘A soldier? Him?’ she asked in amazement.
‘In intelligence. They approached him, he says.’
‘You’ve always known he was bright as a button.’
‘Doesn’t make losing him any easier. I might have found someone to bring along, but …’
‘You’ll have to break them in to your ways?’ Her mouth curled into a grin.
‘Something like that,’ he laughed. Sissons impressed him. He was bright, resourceful, very observant. But no one could be a proper replacement for Fowler, and the lad would need to grow up quickly. ‘Anyway, you haven’t had much to say, either.’
‘Same as you.’ She shrugged and pushed herself off the settee and fanned herself. ‘I’ll make us some lemonade.’
He followed her into the kitchen, watching as she deftly squeezed the lemons, adding water and sugar to the jug. A quick taste and a nod before she poured glasses for them both.
‘Would you take a look at something for me?’ she asked.
‘Of course. What is it?’
‘A few ideas that might stop anything like Ada and Annie Redshaw happening again.’
She produced some folded papers from the pocket of her dress. Almost shyly, he thought. That wasn’t like her. He read as he sipped the drink. They were good proposals, he thought. Some of them very good. But …
‘Do you think the Guardians will go for all this?’ he asked once he’d finished. A few of the suggestions were quite radical. Harper had seen the staid old men who made up most of the board. He couldn’t see them backing this. Especially if it came from a woman.
‘As it stands?’ Annabelle asked. ‘Not a chance. There are two or three who hold a lot of influence, though. I thought maybe I could sweet talk them a little …’ He stared at her and she reddened. ‘I know,’ she told him. ‘I know. I don’t like it. But if a little flattery and flirting can get them to support this, it’s worthwhile, isn’t it?’
‘For the greater good.’
‘Quoting philosophy at me now, Tom Harper? But yes, I suppose that’s it. For the children. They’re the ones who matter.’
‘Then do it.’ He wrapped her in a hug. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘I haven’t done anything yet.’ She picked up the papers and stuffed them back in her pocket. ‘It might all fall flat.’
‘It won’t.’ If it did, she’d have tried. And she’d try again.
‘Did I tell you I dropped Elizabeth Reed a letter? She’d been asking about that girl. Catherine Bush.’ It took him a second to remember who she meant: the one from the workhouse who was boarded in Whitby. ‘I told her she ought to give her a job. Good reports all the way through. It’s her sister who’s always been a bit of a problem, apparently.’
‘What—’ he began, but the harsh bell of the telephone cut him off.
‘It’ll be for you,’ she told him. After dark, who else?
The duty sergeant’s deep voice boomed through the wires. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but Mr Ash says you’re needed urgently.’
Harper felt the hair prickle at the back of his neck. ‘Where? What’s happened?’
‘Someone’s tried to rob Mr Nicholson. The inspector said you’d know who that was.’
‘I do.’ Thoughts and questions were already pouring through his head.
‘He’s shaken up but not badly hurt. At the infirmary—’
Harper cut him off. ‘Send a hackney for me.’
‘He’s with the doctor now, sir.’
Ash met him at the front door of the hospital, and they st
rode through the corridors. They both knew the place too well, footsteps echoing off the walls as they walked, the grim, harsh stink of carbolic catching at the back their throats.
‘Are we certain it was a robbery?’
‘Looks like it, sir,’ Ash replied after a small hesitation. ‘Or it’s meant to. Wallet gone, watch and chain, gold tie pin.’
‘Any injuries?’
‘I only had a glimpse, but he doesn’t look too bad. The beat constable was called to a disturbance in a ginnel off Swan Street, the one that leads through to the old courts. Nicholson was on the cobbles. According to his report, people heard someone shouting for help. When they arrived, they saw two men running off. Someone went and found a bobby … that’s it.’
‘Two men?’ Harper asked. ‘They were sure about that?’
‘Haven’t spoken to them myself, sir, but yes.’
A brief word with the physician. No bones broken, no real damage that he could find.
‘Some bruising and he took a bad tumble,’ the doctor said, ‘but it’s all on the surface. We’re keeping him in tonight as a precaution, but he should be completely fine in a day or two.’
Nicholson was sitting up in the hospital bed. He looked older than the man Harper had spoken to that afternoon, as if the years had suddenly touched him and made him frail. Thin arms above the blankets, with the bruises beginning to show. Scraped knuckles. The cuts on his face had been cleaned, but he’d have a matching set of black eyes in the morning.
‘I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon.’ His voice was thick, as if his tongue was too large for his mouth; the words came out heavy and slurred. But his eyes were lively and clear.
‘What happened, sir?’ Harper asked. ‘Just take your time and tell us.’
He’d left the Leeds Club, strolling to the cab rank at the top of Briggate, cutting down Swan Street, behind the music hall. Suddenly, something was thrown over his head and he was dragged into the shadows where two men punched him.
‘Two, sir?’ Ash interrupted. ‘You’re positive about that?’
‘Yes.’ Nicholson nodded then winced at the movement. ‘They didn’t speak. I was trying to call out, but the … thing over my head muffled it. They took what they wanted, then ran off as soon as they heard other people coming. Gave me a last kick and that was it. Then someone was asking how I was.’
‘Do you always go that way to catch a hackney, sir?’
He nodded and winced at the pain. ‘I do. Routine.’ Anyone watching him would know. Nicholson turned his head slowly. ‘Was it the Smiths?’
‘Hard to be certain,’ Harper told him. ‘But I’d say it was.’
Why, though? Because he’d talked to the police? How could they even know?
‘Good job I’m a tough old boot,’ Nicholson said. He tried to smile.
‘You rest,’ the superintendent said. ‘Inspector Ash will come by in the morning to see if you’ve remembered anything more.’
‘There’s nothing more to remember. I couldn’t see them, they didn’t speak.’
‘Maybe something will come to you.’
‘Talk to the men on the beat,’ Harper said as they stood out in the warm darkness. ‘Find the names of the people who helped. Get someone to speak to them in the morning.’
‘We know who’s responsible, sir.’
‘And we still have absolutely no evidence,’ he said. ‘Exactly the same as before.’
They started back to Millgarth. Monday night, nobody with money left from payday, and the town was quiet. They didn’t talk; there was nothing worth saying.
At the station, Harper unlocked a drawer in his desk and took out a folder.
‘I’ve been talking to a few people myself and putting together a file on May and Howe. Just so you know.’
Ash left the room. A moment later he returned, a small notebook in his hand, eyes twinkling with amusement.
‘Snap, sir. Perhaps we should put them together.’
‘This stays between us. Don’t even tell Fowler and Walsh. I don’t want to involve them yet.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘What about Nicholson? Why would they do it?’ He chewed his lip and stared at the inspector. ‘Could it have been a simple robbery?’
‘They wanted to put the fear of God in him, sir.’ He paused. ‘There’s something else in there, too.’
‘A warning to us, you mean? For raiding their office.’
‘That’s my guess.’
‘Then they’re scared,’ Harper said.
‘We know what they look like now, sir. Every bobby on the force will have copies of the pictures tomorrow.’
‘How could they know we’d talked to Nicholson?’
‘Someone at the quarry?’
‘Take another look at everyone who works there.’
He sighed and stretched back, trying to ease the kinks in his neck, sitting up quickly as a thought struck him.
‘Maybe they have someone on the force. Here in Millgarth. They seem to know what we’ve been doing every step of the way.’
Ash frowned. ‘I’ll have a word with Tollman in the morning. If there’s anything, he can ferret it out.’
‘Good.’ A copper being paid by the Smiths … it would explain so much. ‘How are things coming along with all those papers we took from their office?’
Ash shook his head. ‘Fowler and Walsh are trying to put everything in order, but they don’t have the training for this, sir. And while they’re stuck in that office, they can’t be out doing their real jobs.’
‘Leave it with me.’ He looked at the clock. Close to midnight. ‘We might as well go home. We’re not going to find any answers tonight.’
Ten in the morning. The monthly meeting of division heads with the chief. He sat with the other superintendents in Crossley’s office, quietly sweltering in the warmth. Brian Patterson’s face was slick with sweat, and John Curtis from ‘D’ Division looked ready to fall asleep.
Harper felt as if he’d only had a few minutes’ sleep. His eyes stung when he blinked and his tongue felt furred as he listened to the drone of voices.
It was the same as ever: poring over crime figures and trying to make sense of the changes. After four years he’d learned to adjust to the boredom of it, to switch off his mind. The chief saying his name made him jerk up his head.
‘Sorry, sir, I missed that.’
‘The murders, Tom.’
He told them, seeing interest stir on everyone’s faces. This was meat, something tasty for them all. He finished by telling them about the attack on Nicholson.
‘We have photographs of the Smiths when they were younger. From the police in Manchester. I’ll make sure you have copies.’
Nods and murmurs. They all knew what it was like. The constant battle to keep crime in check in a city that was growing and changing. As if he needed a reminder of how fast things moved, he heard the roar of a motor car as it passed along Great George Street. The future. They had to keep pace.
‘A quick word if you would, Tom,’ Crossley said as the meeting ended.
The room seemed hushed with just two of them.
‘How are all your investigations coming along?’ The chief poured another cup of tea from the pot.
‘These papers … we need someone who can make sense of them, sir. Someone who understands figures.’
The chief spooned sugar into his cup, stirring it slowly. ‘I’ll take care of that.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Councillor Howe came to see me before the meeting.’
‘I see.’ He could feel his body grow tense, every muscle tight. ‘What did he want, sir?’
‘The same thing as before.’ He took a sip of the tea. ‘I think it was just a reminder that they won’t let it drop. They want your head.’ A pause and a smile. ‘They’re not going to get it.’
‘I appreciate you giving me the nod, sir.’
‘If you can solve one or other of these cases, that would ease the pressure.�
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‘We’re doing everything we can, sir.’
Crossley raised a hand. ‘No criticism intended, Tom. But the sooner these are over, the quicker we’ll neutralize them.’
‘Yes, sir.’ What else could he say? They both knew the answers already. For now he wasn’t going to mention any possible connection between the councillors and the North Leeds Company. No point until he had proof. ‘One other thing while I’m here, sir.’ He explained about Fowler and Sissons.
The chief’s face clouded. ‘I hate to lose an experienced detective like that. But I suppose it’s an opportunity for him.’
‘I think the new man will work out.’
‘Very good. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. I’d like the burglar, but I really want this pair of killers.’
‘So do I, sir. More than you can imagine.’
‘Mr Nicholson was discharged from the infirmary this morning, sir,’ Ash said. ‘He’s under orders not to do much for a few days.’
‘How did he look?’ Harper asked.
‘Stiff and bruised. But he left under his own steam. A bit frightened, maybe.’
‘Hardly surprising. Let’s keep an eye on him.’
‘We will, sir.’
‘One more thing. The Smiths have their account at Beckett’s Bank. We need to cut them off from their money.’
Ash grinned. ‘You can leave that one with me, sir. I’ll have that arranged in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’
How? Harper wondered as the man left. But he had no doubt it would happen.
Were they doing everything they could? Harper stood by the open window. Still hot out, and no relief in sight, according to the newspaper. The summer that wouldn’t end.
He’d studied the file on the Smiths, searching for mistakes, small things they might have overlooked. But they’d done it all properly. Every t crossed, every i dotted. A thorough investigation, everything step by step.
This pair killed at the first sign of risk. They took no chances, and they seemed to know what the police were doing. Having an informer at Millgarth would be a natural move. They were clever. If not them, then whoever was running it all.
It was a bloody cancer, and he had to cut it out.
Harper took out the folder on the councillors. He desperately wanted Howe and May to be the ones behind this. He’d relish the sweet revenge of arresting them. But simply wanting didn’t make it true, though. He wasn’t that blind. They were a corrupt pair, they loved money. He’d discovered plenty about them; Ash had more. But still no direct link to the Smiths. And until he had that, he was going to tread very, very carefully.
The Leaden Heart Page 15
