I turned to him. ‘Well, as you ask, the questions I have for you are around the fingerprints that were found on Simon’s vehicle. Can I ask if you have accessed his car at any time?’ I knew the answer but I had to ask the question.
‘I don’t believe this.’ And with that he was out of the door and out of the house.
I looked at Karen. ‘I’m sorry. It had to be asked, to eliminate him, you understand, even though I knew the answer.’
She shook her head. ‘He’s finding this so hard. They were close. Did everything together. Of course, his fingerprints will be on Simon’s car, as much as you will find Simon’s fingerprints on Nathan’s car and mine on both their cars I expect.’
Her eyes were slick now. She’d held it together for long enough and now Nathan had left the wall she had put up around herself crumbled. ‘My poor boy doesn’t know what to do with himself. I’ve lost one and I can’t do anything to help the other. I’m afraid for him. Afraid he won’t recover from this. That he’ll do something so completely self-destructive that there’ll be no way back. I try so hard to keep him centred. Focused. Tied to what’s left of his family, but as each day passes it gets more and more difficult.’ She looked me in the eyes. ‘Tell me, DI Robbins, what do I do?’
Hannah
Our next stop was the QMC mortuary.
Jack Kidner was in good spirits, as was his usual demeanour, when Aaron and I entered the sterile working environment. He was in the middle of telling the morgue tech, Paul Marchant, about his evening the night before, which, from what I could gather involved good wine and lots of talk about death as several pathologists and fellow doctors had gone out for dinner. I’m sure the other diners were mortified by their evening’s entertainment, which was what amused Jack so much.
‘And old Thomas, he was talking so loudly because he’s losing his hearing, I was sure we were going to see the lady at the next table on one of our tables here today as I thought she would have a coronary.’ He cackled an evil laugh. ‘Dear chap, we did tell him to turn it down but he didn’t understand that he was quite so loud.’
‘Jack, can’t you find anything else to talk about when you get together?’ I asked him.
‘Well, young Hannah, do you always avoid the subject of work when you leave the office?’ He winked at me knowing full well that when police officers got together it meant shop talk would take place no matter the location. It couldn’t be helped.
‘You have me.’
‘I thought so. Okay, let’s look at Mr Miller here.’ He snapped on his gloves and turned to the table that held Paul Miller.
‘See these bruises here and here?’ Jack pointed to the dark oval shaped bruises on the front of Miller’s shoulders.
‘I see them.’
‘Well, it looks as though someone pinned him down, either with their fists or they knelt on him, either way, from behind his head or over his torso and then cut out his tongue, because you can survive having your tongue cut out.’
‘You can?’
‘Oh yes. Most definitely. You won’t be able to eat very well and you certainly won’t be able to communicate the same way again, but it wouldn’t necessarily kill you and whomever did this must have known that because there are no other life altering injuries,’ he stopped talking and waved across to the X-rays hung on the light box, we’d already assessed, ‘as we’ve seen. So, they wanted his tongue out and they wanted to kill him so they knew they had to do more than cut it out.’
‘So, they knelt on him?’
‘Or pinned him down with their fists. There’s also some minor bruising across his shins as well to indicate there was more than one offender.’
‘And the purpose of holding him down?’
‘Was to make him suffocate or drown in his own blood.’
‘Good God.’ My stomach flipped over.
‘Yes, not very pleasant.’
‘That’s an understatement, Jack. I think I’d prefer the bullet to the head.’
‘I think you’d be right to as well.’
‘So, which happened?’
‘He drowned.’
Hannah
Retired-DCI Summers lived in a beautiful large detached home on Melton Road in West Bridgford. A place at odds with the sights and sounds of the nightclub we were here to ask him about. There were flowers still in bloom in planters either side of the door and hanging baskets on the walls. Trails of green leaves dangling, twisted and colourful, brightening up a rather dull day.
He welcomed me and Aaron into his home as though we were old friends. He was shorter than I expected, about 5’ 9” with a roundness that made him look shorter. His face had some colour to it as though he spent a lot of time out of doors.
As he showed us into his living room and I looked out of the patio doors into the garden I could see he really was a keen gardener. It was beautiful out there. Like the front, there were flowers and greenery, all kept perfectly. A water feature trickled in a corner and the lawn was all clean sharp edges.
‘Can I get you both a drink?’ he asked as we found ourselves seats.
It was rare people kept green tea so I asked for a coffee instead. Aaron refused.
‘You sure? A glass of water?’
‘I don’t drink in people’s houses,’ he answered.
I cringed. People mostly took the no thanks at face value, but if pushed Aaron would give his reason. He didn’t like to drink in the homes of people he didn’t know. I knew some could easily take offence at this and watched Summers for his reaction. I didn’t want to put this guy offside, we were here for his help. But Aaron was Aaron and I would not apologise for him.
Summers looked taken aback then recovered. ‘Right-oh. Two coffees coming up.’ He left the room.
I looked around. It appeared like a family home, not that of a single male. There were soft touches, cushions, pictures on the walls and the clincher, photographs of him with a woman and two other younger adults, both male that I took to be his sons.
Sounds of a kettle boiling and the clatter of mugs and spoons made their way into the room as we waited. Aaron was thoughtful. Also taking in the room. I knew he’d be getting his own feel of the man.
Summers walked back in with a mug in each hand and gave me one. I thanked him. ‘How’s retirement?’ I asked. With a genuine interest in life after the job.
‘Ah, it’s okay, you know.’
I didn’t. ‘You keep yourself busy?’ I inclined my head towards the door, to where I’d seen the flowers.
He shook his head. ‘You have to. The job keeps you ticking along at such a pace, when it all stops…’ he trailed off.
‘You miss it?’
Summers shrugged. ‘I miss the people. Not so much the shit that we dealt with. You know what I mean.’
I did. ‘The people are great.’ I couldn’t do what I did without the people beside me. Aaron most of all if I was honest.
To the reason we were here. ‘Thanks for seeing us on such short notice,’ I said.
‘Not a problem. You mentioned on the phone that it was to do with the Vanilla Jazz job. Nasty business. I’m more than happy to help in any way I can.’ He leaned back in his chair. Made himself comfortable. Relaxed.
‘It is. You’ve probably heard on the news that Simon Talbot has been murdered…’
‘No loss there.’ He half shrugged, one shoulder lifting. As that was all Talbot was worth.
I refrained from commenting on that particular statement. ‘Well, we’re looking into previous cases that involved him, to see if we can find any links.’
‘You’re going to have your hands full if you try to find someone without cause to kill a piece of shit like that, Hannah. He was a nasty piece of work. The list of suspects will no doubt be huge, I imagine.’
I nodded my agreement that Talbot had indeed managed to upset a lot of people in his time as leader of the Talbot gang. ‘But, there is a reason we’re looking at the nightclub job in particular. It’s come up.’
Summers understood there were some things we couldn’t disclose now he was no longer in the job, but he was happy to take it at face value. ‘Okay, and what is it you need from me?’ he asked.
I leaned forward in my chair, explained that I wanted to know all about the nightclub investigation, how strongly he believed the Talbots were involved and why. I wanted to know everything even if it hadn’t made it into the paperwork – for whatever reason.
The old DCI was more than happy to talk about the job. He became animated as he started to look back on his past case. I’d presumed he’d looked healthy, well and happy enough when I’d first met him but seeing him talk and open up about a police case showed me that he did in fact miss the work. There was nothing that compared to investigating and locking up the bad guys, even if at times you didn’t always get your guy. And that was when anger flashed across his face as he recounted the fact that they had been unable to find enough evidence against the Talbots even though people had been happy enough to whisper about it being their drugs. When it came down to it, they were intimidated and refused to cooperate. No one would provide an official statement. No one would go on record. They were scared and no amount of reassurance would change their minds. The actual drugs interactions hadn’t been picked up by the CCTV cameras. Whoever had been doing it knew where the cameras were set up and did it out of view or the whole transaction was so discreet it was impossible to pick up in the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor and round the bar area.
Summers looked at the photograph of his sons on the wall. Quiet for a moment. I let it sit. ‘The kids weren’t that much younger than my own youngest, you know. I worked the case to the bone but they started to take staff from me. Made us smaller. Said we’d had long enough and we’d had enough budget until eventually it was closed down. Obviously, the case was classed as open so that if any new evidence came to light then it could be acted upon, but the case was wrapped up, we were told we had to work on new cases. New people needed us.’ He looked tired again now. This decision hadn’t sat well with him.
‘But you were sure it was the Talbots putting the drugs in the club?’ Aaron clarified again.
‘Damn sure. If a bookie had have been taking bets on a police investigation, I’d have put money on it.’
‘How strong was the intel?’ I asked. ‘The kids in the club taking the stuff wouldn’t know where it had come from, their interest would have been to buy it so they could take it, they wouldn’t have cared about the provenance.’
Summers picked up his coffee which had now cooled and took a swig before answering. ‘One of the dealers in the club talked. Refused to make a statement. He made the one off-the-cuff comment and then legged it out the city. Found again in Manchester, but refused to come back and help. Because it had never made it to official paperwork we couldn’t force him as a hostile witness.’
So, it really had been the Talbots drugs that had killed those kids. No wonder Summers had worked so hard to bring them in. And had grown so frustrated with it. It was difficult when you knew what had happened but were unable to prove it. I drank my own coffee.
‘And then you came across another case with his name as a suspect,’ I said. ‘Tell me about that one.’
Summers stood, coffee mug in one hand. Pushed his glasses on top of his head, with the other and rubbed at his nose. ‘Who wants another drink?’ He wandered off without waiting for a response.
Hannah
I stood and followed Summers into the kitchen. Aaron fell into step behind me. It was a large room. Light flooded in through the huge window. Summers stood at the sink and filled the kettle. His eyes staring out into the garden somewhere.
‘Robert? Everything okay?’ I asked.
He switched off the tap, tipped some excess water out the kettle and plugged it into the wall.
‘Yes, yes, sorry. I just needed another drink. Let’s sort these out and then we can carry on. Old memories, you know? It’s been a while. I miss the job.’
I understood that. I asked him what he remembered of the murder investigation of PC Ken Blake. The kettle bubbled in the background. Light streamed in around Summers, his face shadowed as he looked down.
‘It was an awful time, as you know. Losing one of our own and in such horrific circumstances. It affects every single officer and staff member regardless of whether they personally knew him or not. The force was in shock. It was grieving. It was bloody furious and needed justice and it needed it to be swift. There was an outpouring of voices. You were there. You know this. The electronic and physical remembrance books were filled with names and comments within hours, it poured in. But you will have been one of those voices.
‘I landed the job of catching his killer. It was a lot of pressure, but a job I was up for. Everyone wanted that job, everyone wanted to be on that job. We were out in force, out fast and out visibly. I don’t know how much your team were up-to-date on it all, but we were inundated with emails, offers of support, requests to join the unit, to be seconded.’ He looked up at me. Then at Aaron who was listening. Taking it in. ‘One of the hardest things I had to do within the investigation was keeping that young lad out of it. He was heartbroken and he wanted in so much.’
‘Who? Lee Cave?’
‘Yeah, that’s him. He was desperate to be a part of it. He emailed me every day. Made phone calls into the office and even turned up in person. But because he was involved we couldn’t allow it. Telling him cut hard. The young lad tried to hold himself together, but you could see him falling apart inside. You would though, wouldn’t you, if it was your partner, your friend? If you were there when it happened. If you walked away from it and they never did.’ He paused again. Lost in the past. ‘Can’t imagine what the poor kid went through. I told him to visit occ health instead of keep coming to the incident room, it wasn’t healthy for him, but I doubt he did. He was a strong-willed bugger. Determined. Didn’t want to dwell in his own pain, but to drive forward and focus it somewhere. Like we were.’
The kettle whistled into the thick, charged air around us. Slicing through the emotion. Summers busied himself with making two more drinks.
‘You never found the gun used to kill Blake?’ Aaron asked.
Summers handed me another mug. Again, filled with coffee. This one I wouldn’t drink. He had needed something to do so I’d let him busy himself with the task.
‘No. The thought process at the time was that there was someone in the house who legged it with the weapon and disposed of it. Probably in the Trent. But, it could be anywhere. Just not in any of the places we searched. They could have buried it someplace or have it hidden out at someone else’s house. Though who’d want to be found with that particular firearm is beyond me, so my guess would be that it had been disposed of where we wouldn’t find it.’
‘But you got lucky.’ A statement. I knew the facts. Everyone knew the facts.
Summers looked back into the garden. ‘I don’t know if you’d call it luck. Isn’t that where it happens to you and you have no control? These two guys decided to do the right thing. We had a break in the case.’
‘Paul Miller and Brent Davis.’
‘Yeah, that’s them. How’d you know that? After a while we put them in as protected witnesses. Thought it was for the best, you know?’
‘Something has come up in the current case.’
Summers sighed. He made no move to return to the living room.
‘They came forward. Said they were in the house when it all went down but scarpered when he shot the cop. They were scared. That’s why they ran and that was why they took so long to come forward. They were from the Buckhurst crew. They weren’t scared of us, but of repercussions. Payback. Said they were there to fight with Talbot, he pulled a gun, the cops walked in and Talbot fired. They didn’t think their evidence would be good enough because they were part of the Buckhursts but then evidence from the PM corroborated what they said.’
‘The bullet matched a bullet casing that had been used in a driv
e-by against the Buckhurst crew a year earlier,’ Aaron said.
‘Yeah. Even though no one wanted to talk, they didn’t agree with shooting cops. Said it brought trouble down on them all. That’s why they came forward. Got the go-ahead from the top first though.’
I put my coffee on the table. Untouched.
‘Sounds very civilised.’
‘Doesn’t it? But we needed it. Those two gangsters are what helped us bring a murder charge against Simon Talbot for the death of Ken Blake.’ He turned, leaned his back against the sink, looked at me. ‘Sometimes you’ve got to sit down with the devil to make the world a safer place.’
Hannah
‘And the devil we were sitting down with was?’ I asked.
‘The Buckhurst crew of course. We had to rely on them to be able to obtain a positive charging decision from the CPS.’
Summers appeared a little agitated. He’d started to move around the kitchen now. Not the relaxed stance of a few moments ago when he’d gazed out of his window.
‘And you weren’t happy with that?’
‘I wanted Blake’s killer caught. If I had to use the Buckhurst crew to do that then so be it.’
His manner said different.
‘Did you know Ken?’ I asked. Something had to account for the change in Summers’ behaviour.
‘No more than you did. But he was one of us. He was family and his killer had to get put down. It was my job to do that.’
I looked to Aaron who had nothing to offer. He wouldn’t pick up on the subtle mounting distress of Summers.
‘Was there anyone else in the house do you know, other than Talbot and the two witnesses?’
‘Not according to the witnesses. Look, I’ve told you all I can. There’s nothing else I can say that isn’t in the files which I expect you already have or will have already requested. I’m not sure what you expect to be able to gain by talking to me. It’s the two witnesses you need, or in reality, to find new witnesses to this new murder.’
The DI Hannah Robbins Series: Books 1 - 3 (Boxset) (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series) Page 59
