by Jo Allen
Jude lingered. The threat that had come to Doddsy hadn’t been reported, hadn’t been talked about in the office. Doddsy might have told Tyrone but that was it. The three of them, and Faye, when the latest killing had been reported, must have had the same thought. Who would be next?
Faye had been waiting for him. When he went in she was sitting straight up at her desk with her hands folded on a copy of the local newspaper. ‘Jude. Thank you for coming by.’ She pushed the newspaper towards the edge of her desk as if it disgusted her. ‘I have today’s local paper. Hot off the press.’
Time to read the paper? Faye didn’t have enough to do. He’d thought he’d be expected to update her on the important things, like the note he’d just received from the CSI team and which Faye had been copied into. George Meadows had had a warning note just like the one that had come to Doddsy.
He reached out for the newspaper, which had been folded over to display an article — less than a quarter of a page in the bottom right hand corner of (he picked it up to check) page 7. The headline, if it could be called a headline, announced New Superintendent’s Equality Crusade and the six column inches contained a brief resume of Faye’s career, an outline of her stated intention to improve equality and diversity and a reference to the ongoing story of the local murders, concluded with the line that Detective Superintendent Scanlon, who is separated from her husband, reportedly left the Cheshire force after an affair with a female colleague.
He read it a second time for any subtext that he might have missed, then turned the newspaper over in case he should have been looking at something else. ‘Is this a problem?’
‘I’d trusted your discretion.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
She exaggerated her sigh. ‘I’m glad you’re so sanguine about it. Did any of this information come from you?’
‘No.’ He unfolded the paper and refolded it to its normal state. The front page had gone big on the real news, a third murder, and that was where the journalists had let their imaginations run riot. It reminded him, if he needed reminding, that there were three people dead and whoever had done it had actively threatened others. Faye flattered herself. ‘Who’s interested in what a police officer once did in their private life? No-one’s going to read that article with all this going on. I wouldn’t let it bother you. No-one cares, Faye. No-one.’
‘I’m glad you think so,’ she said, though she could hardly have expected that any published article would be so anodyne.
‘I’ve seen stories about serving officers that were a lot worse and a lot less accurate.’
‘You don’t seem remotely surprised about the content of it.’
‘I’m not surprised. Ashleigh told me about it.’
Her lip quivered. ‘I thought as much. I asked you in here to give me your reassurance that you have nothing to do with this story.’ She looked down at the local newspaper with contempt.
Most of it looked as if it had been culled from Faye’s own press releases. ‘I’ve nothing to do with it. It’s way more than my job’s worth.’
‘Indeed it is.’ Her eyes narrowed.
‘Right. My advice would be to let it slide. And we could usefully spend our time working on more important things. Like trying to see if we can stop anyone else being slaughtered like a pig in the street.’ He could hear contempt in his voice. His opinion of Faye had been low and now it slipped further.
‘Thanks for your input.’ Her tone was dry. ‘I haven’t forgotten what’s going on. But I think you and I are diverging on this investigation. As a straight white male you carry the baggage of privilege. I want you to focus much more closely on the victims and their sexuality.’
Jude might have privilege but Faye had a chip on her shoulder. And she might be right but his gut told him there was more to it. ‘There’s no evidence George Meadows was gay.’
‘He had a leaflet about the festival.’
George had had a wife, too, but so did Giles. ‘We can’t assume he’s gay because of that.’
‘Not can we assume he isn’t. But perhaps even if he wasn’t someone thought he was. And there’s this warning note. At which point, I must add a footnote to this story. Or rather, a forenote.’
‘Oh?’ Jude calmed himself.
‘Yes. I didn’t mention it to you because it isn’t something I want widely known but I received a similar warning to the one that came to DI Dodd.’
He drew in a long breath, as if he needed reminding that the killer who had come to the Eden Valley had extended their shadows right into the corridors of the police headquarters. Perhaps after all Faye’s concerns about the newspaper article weren’t so self-serving. ‘Did it come here?’
‘No. It came to my home address, which is a matter of concern in itself. Nevertheless.’ She turned to her computer as if the interview was ended, ‘I’m telling you that for information only, but I’m having the papers analysed.’
‘Get the tech people to copy me in,’ Jude said, and headed down the corridor.
*
‘Excuse me, Doddsy.’ Tammy, bristling with chill hostility, shouldered her way past him as he moved towards the desk where Jude was in deep conversation with one of the constables, his body language demonstrating his sheer frustration at the turn the investigation had taken.
Doddsy understood. Just when they’d been so sure of the case against Giles Butler, with a name and a reputation he was so desperate to protect and a perfect motive for murder, along had come an indication that either he wasn’t the killer, or that he was and there was a copycat case.
‘If we hear any more on his movements,’ Jude was saying, ‘I want to know straight away. Okay?’
‘Jude.’ Tammy’s hostility extended beyond Doddsy. She must have guessed where Tyrone had been when he hadn’t come home the night they’d gone for their walk up by Ullswater, but he sensed she knew her own powerlessness. ‘May I interrupt?’
Tammy was sensible and she would get used to the idea, in time. But what might Phil have done, or what might he have threatened to do, in the first heat of his fury? And if there was a threat to Doddsy, then there could also be a threat to Tyrone.
Jude sat back. From a distance, Doddsy thought he could sense yet another in what seemed to be a series of sighs, and moved a little closer. ‘Is it important?’
‘I think so.’
‘Fine.’ Jude turned to Chris. ‘Good work so far, though. Let me know if anything comes up. Okay, Tammy. Is something wrong?’ Something else wrong, the slight rebuke in his tone seemed to imply.
‘Yes. I haven’t been called in to look at the crime scene up in town. The murder. Why’s that?’
With his colleagues Jude was a poor liar, unable even to reproduce the bland expression he kept for witnesses. ‘I couldn’t say. I wasn’t the one who called the CSI team out. I was interviewing a suspect when the body was found.’
‘You know it makes sense for me to be out on that job. I was available. I know the other two scenes. It’s possible that there are things I could find out from there, more quickly than some others, just because I know what to look for.’
‘Yes, I know that. And you know how highly I think of your work.’ Jude smiled, one that was meant to reassure her and which, judging by the little shift of her shoulders, failed. ‘Whoever sent out the team must have had their reasons.’
‘If it wasn’t you, who was it? Doddsy?’ She turned to scowl at him. ‘Did you decide to cut me out?’
‘It wasn’t me. I imagine it was Faye.’
‘And should I go and ask her reasons, or are you going to tell me what you think they are?’ Tammy turned her hard stare back to Jude, then over to the far side of the room, where Faye was sitting listening intently to what one of the detectives had to say.
Jude had been fidgeting with a pen, and at that he put it down. ‘I haven’t discussed it with her, but I imagine she thought it wasn’t entirely appropriate that you should be involved when it was Phil who found Gracie Pepper
’s body. That’s all. You can imagine what fun a defence counsel would have if that piece of information came out.’
‘Are you seriously suggesting Phil is a suspect?’ Her look would have frozen a lesser man. ‘For God’s sake, Jude. Phil? He’s a doctor.’
‘I’m not suggesting anything. I’m only pointing out that we have to observe all the protocols. We’ve hardly started eliminating people from our inquiries, let alone finished, and until then we can’t make any assumptions without evidence. I do hope you understand that.’
She stared down at him, the hard, curious stare of a woman determined to defend her family, placing them above everything else, without question. ‘Well, hurry up and rule him out, then. I don’t need this hassle hanging over me, and his career won’t stand being accused of murder.’
‘Nobody’s accusing him of anything.’ Jude stood up and turned away from her, in a gesture of dismissal. ‘Doddsy, I’m glad you popped by. We can pool information. You probably know more about this than I do.’
Doddsy pulled up a chair and inspected his spotless fingernails for the half a minute that it took for Tammy to realise that, as far as Jude was concerned, the interview was over. It was with relief when the door closed. ‘Awkward, that.’
Jude resumed his seat. ‘As if we didn’t have enough to do.’ In the half minute the notifications in his inbox had pinged half a dozen times. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?’
‘Among other things. I take it she’s right about the reasons for her not being involved.’
Jude spread his hands, in a gesture of hopelessness. ‘What choice do we have? She must know Phil’s a suspect, even if she won’t admit it to herself. And even if she does admit it, she won’t believe he could be guilty. I don't believe it myself, but we have to look at everything and we have to approach it with an open mind. I can’t afford to rule him out without proof. And if I’m wrong and he did do it…too bad. He gets charged.’
‘There’s no evidence Phil was on the scene at the time of this latest one, is there?’
‘I don’t know if there is. We haven’t yet definitely established where he was. We do know he was in work late because he was at the dentist, in Stricklandgate.’ Jude shook his head, because it was only the slightest detour from Stricklandgate to William Street. ‘Until we get the PM results we won’t know the time of death, but we can be pretty certain that the window is going to be wider than for either of the other two, so everyone’s going to have to account for their movements for a bit longer than five minutes before the discovery of the body. At the moment I have to say it’s possible that he was.’ He paused, an uncomfortable moment for them both to dwell on the possibility of Phil’s involvement. ‘What’s your take on it?’
‘I had a chat with Tyrone about it.’
‘It must be tough for him.’
‘Very, but he’s hard-headed about it. Far more so than Tammy. He knows his dad’s dislike — even distrust — of gay people goes very deep. People like me.’
‘Not just you. Tyrone, too.’
‘Maybe. But I know that sort of mind set. I come across it everywhere. And look at how folk care so much about their kids. They’d die in a ditch for them. They’d kill for them. Other people are different.’
Jude narrowed his eyes slightly, as if this information, difficult as it was for Doddsy to give, was unwelcome to him.
‘You’ve seen how Tammy reacts,’ Doddsy went on. ‘She doesn’t seem to mind who Tyrone sees. It’s whether it makes him happy. Phil isn’t any different, except that he probably has it in his head that some twisted queer had perverted his kid. But you know what?’
‘What?’
‘Phil knew Gracie was gay.’
Jude sat back, his face fixed in thought, but only for a second. He reached immediately for his phone and dialled. It rang for a moment and then there was a click and Phil Garner came on the line again. Jude flipped him onto speaker. ‘Phil. Glad I caught you. I just remembered something I wanted to ask.’
Even at a distance, Phil’s discomfort was obvious. As always, he resorted to bullishness. ‘Remembered something else I’ve done wrong, have you?’
‘No,’ said Jude, his voice entirely neutral. ‘It’s just a question. Gracie Pepper was gay. Did you know that?’
The pause was so long you could almost hear the cogs whirring in Phil’s brain. ‘Now you mention it, I think I did.’
‘You think?’
‘All right. I did know it.’
Doddsy’s heart sank.
‘It wasn’t common knowledge,’ said Jude, tapping the fingers of his free hand softly on the desk. ‘How did you know?’
‘She told me.’
‘Okay. When was that?’
Another pause. ‘Jude. Don’t mess me around.’
‘It’s just a simple question.’
‘It was after that bloody workshop.’ Phil heaved a gusty sigh, one they were obviously meant to hear. ‘I said something. Can’t remember what it was but she seemed to think it was disrespectful. You’re talking about people like me, she said. I asked her what the hell she was on about and she said she was a lesbian and walked off. Is that enough?’
‘More than enough. Thank you.’
‘If you’re trying to set me up for this, you won’t keep your job.’
‘If I was, I wouldn’t deserve to. Thanks, Phil.’ Jude ended the call and turned back to Doddsy. His laptop nagged at him again and he hit the mute button. ‘Well, well. Interesting.’
‘Faye’s right, isn’t she?’ Doddsy frowned at the phone. ‘I know you want to keep an open mind but you can’t look beyond the connection. I wonder if Claud knew.’
‘We could ask him. Or rather, you can ask him, since you’re such good mates with him. I’ll be interested to see what he says.’
Doddsy took out his own phone and put the call through. Claud, when reached, was anxious. ‘Such a shame about George. Lovely man. A great friend of our community. I spoke to one of your constables this morning, told him all about it. I don’t know what to do, now. People are scared. I’ve already had them wanting to call off the festival.’
‘We’re doing the best we can,’ said Doddsy, retreating into blandness and noting Jude’s amused lift of the eyebrow. ‘Did you know Gracie Pepper was gay?’
‘Oh, of course. Everyone’s a bit gay.’
Jude was shaking his head.
‘You don’t know for certain, then?’
‘Oh God, yes. She came up to me after the workshop we did and said she’d always preferred women to men but she’d never thought it a big deal. I told her there was nothing to be ashamed of, and she said I was right and she’d be a bit more open about it in future.’ At the description of such a successful outcome to the workshop, Claud’s voice seemed to swell with pride. ‘You only have to ask. You can encourage people to be honest. There’s never any harm in it, and a lot of good. I’d invited her to come over one evening and talk about it, if it would help. I think she’d have come.’
For a second Doddsy thought again of the threat that had landed on his desk. You next. But he hadn’t been. Some other innocent had been next. ‘Okay, Claud. Thanks. That was all.’
‘Right,’ Jude said. ‘What do we make of that? Two people now who knew Gracie was gay. Three if you include Claud. But not George.’
George had been outspoken on social media and argued loudly for equality. His avatar bore a rainbow and a pinned tweet proclaimed that love was love. ‘You don’t need me to tell you. Sometimes when it comes to motive it isn’t about how things are. It’s about how you think things are.’
‘Yes. I know.’
‘And there might be other lives at risk.’
‘There almost certainly are, I’d say. I’m no psychiatrist, but I can’t see how these particular killings can be anything other than the product of a warped mind.’
In an unguarded moment, Jude was silent, staring across the room. Following his gaze Doddsy saw that it went beyond Faye and to
the far side of the room where Ashleigh was sitting with her head down over a pile of papers. ‘You reckon?’
‘Yes.’ Jude turned back, as if he hadn’t even realised that his mind had jumped from the job. ‘Which is what makes it so difficult. I don’t know where this leads. I don’t know who else is targeted. Which is perhaps why Faye is so jumpy.’
Everyone’s a little bit gay, Claud had said, and now it made sense. Doddsy had seen the newspaper that morning and though his mind had been too busy racing on to more important things than tittle-tattle it had registered with him. So Faye was bisexual and now Jude was looking towards Ashleigh with that slight crease of the forehead which signified concern. Cheshire.
Ashleigh had put the papers down now, and was sitting back as if a revelation had come upon her. A ray of sunlight crept onto her desk, fingering the sheet of paper on top of the pile. She picked it up, put it to one side, sorted through the pile — witness statements, he presumed — and extracted two. Then she jumped up from the desk and, carrying the three pieces of paper, crossed over to the desk. ‘Jude.’
He motioned to her to sit. Faye, now seeming more interested in what was going on at the table beneath the whiteboard than she was in the conversation in which she was engaged, gave up pretending and also got up and moved towards them. A briefing meeting convened itself, uncalled for, around the table.
‘Do you have any updates for us, Jude?’ Sitting down, Faye directed a frosty stare at Ashleigh. Until that moment her obvious dislike had puzzled Doddsy, but now he thought he understood.
‘We were just discussing that.’ In a few words he outlined the calls with Claud and Phil. ‘Anyone got anything to add before we discuss things?’
‘I have.’ Ashleigh spread the three sheets out in front of her. All were witness statements, typed up and signed, and all had Gracie Pepper’s name at the top of them. ‘The latest victim. I knew the name rang a bell. We’ve spoken to him.’
‘Have we? When?’
‘He was one of the people we interviewed after Gracie’s death. He’s a bell-ringer. They do bell ringing practice in the church on a Tuesday evening from six thirty until eight. He was early and he was already in the church. He didn’t see anybody or anything suspicious. I took a chance just there and called Claud to see if he knew him and he did.’
