Riddled on the Sands (The Lakeland Murders)

by Salkeld, J J

  ‘Petty?’

  ‘Oh aye. Gary is no sort of criminal mastermind, and there’s no real malice in him, not as far as I know. Decent dad he is too, or so I hear. Obviously he’s away a bit when he gets nicked, but it’s never for anything that draws him more than a few months.’

  ‘I saw. He seems to have tried a bit of everything over the years.’

  This time Nobby laughed, but his eyes still looked tired. ‘Searching for his vocation, like? Aye, something like that. He’s tried burglary, a bit of car crime, shoplifting, bit of low level dealing, even had a go at internet fraud.’

  ‘I saw. Anything in it?’

  ‘No. It’s so easy to get hold of cloned credit card details you wouldn’t believe it. He just got hold of a few and tried his luck until we nabbed him. He had the stuff delivered to his auntie’s house, the plank. She’s 87, and it didn’t even take me long to work out who it was who’d actually ordered a Playstation, a laptop and various other goodies.’

  ‘Do we have a list of who he ripped off?’

  ‘Aye, it was only three or four. We returned their goods too, most of them, if I remember rightly.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘Last back end, November, I think.’

  ‘Were any of the internet traders local, by any chance?’

  Nobby thought about it for a moment. ‘No, all down south somewhere. I’d remember if it was local. My geography is useless when it comes to down there though. It’s just one bloody great ring road surrounded by money as far as I can see.’

  ‘So is Craig Gary active now?’

  ‘Oh, aye, bound to be. You know what it’s like, when they start they always carry on. One way or another, like.’

  ‘Doing what, Nobby?’

  Styles sipped his tea and watched a tall young woman in a summer dress walk towards the entrance to the supermarket.

  ‘Does your heart good’ he said.

  ‘Nobby’ said Jane firmly, ‘I haven’t got all day.’

  ‘Me neither. We’ve got to be away in five. So Gary, then, and what he’s up to now. Well I don’t think he’s on the rob. Word is that Alan Frostick had a word after he was done for burglary last time. Told him that if it happened again then Gary would only be able to do over places with wheelchair access. And Gary’s got enough sense to watch himself. But I’ll tell you one funny thing though. I did this fun-run for charity a while back.’

  ‘That is a funny thing.’ Jane was smiling now.

  ‘I’m doing my best to lose the weight’ Nobby said defensively. ‘The Super gave me and a couple of other lads a lecture about it. Said she expected us to fit into 36 inch waist trousers.’

  ‘And do you?’

  ‘Oh, aye, I do, easy. It’s just my gut that doesn’t, that’s all. Anyway, I was doing this run, near the back, because you know what those bloody fell runners are like, all sinews and smug expressions. And bugger me, but who overtook me, right near the end, but our Gary. I was amazed. Fucking astonished in fact. He only believes in self-help, as in helping himself to stuff, but apparently he had plenty of sponsors. I was actually really impressed. Or I was, until I thought about it later.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, look at it this way. What would you expect Gary to do if he found himself with a pile of someone else’s cash?’

  ‘Nick it.’

  ‘Exactly. So what if the little bastard just collected five hundred notes, but only handed over fifty?’

  ‘What was the charity?’

  ‘Children’s hospice.’

  ‘Come on, Nobby. That’s a bit harsh, mate. He’s a dad, he was probably just moved, and wanted to help.’

  Styles looked far from convinced. ‘Help himself, more like. I’m just saying that I think he might be trying the con game a bit. That’s all. He’d see it as victimless, and unlike some of those bastards I think that actually matters to him. A little bit, anyway.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Not really. I hear he still deals a bit of dope, but real low-level stuff. I think he just buys a bit extra when the two-for-one deals are on, then sells on what him and Sheila can’t smoke themselves.’

  Jane nodded. ‘Thanks Nobby. Enjoy your holiday. Where are you going?’

  ‘Lanzarote’

  ‘You don’t look all that happy about it.’

  ‘I’m not looking forward to the flight.’

  ‘Where are you going from?’

  ‘Bloody Heathrow. I’d rather bloody walk.’

  Jane got up quickly. ‘Cheers, Nobby, you’ve been a big help.’

  She walked over to the other table, and swapped cheery insults with a couple of the PCs. Then she nipped into the store and bought a few groceries. She was getting to know what the girls liked to eat, so she could work without a list. And that felt oddly enjoyable.

  Ray Dixon had barely been in for an hour and already he could feel his blood-pressure rising. The office wasn’t air-conditioned, and he could already feel that the back of his shirt was sticking to his chair, and the kids from tech-support were doing his head in. It wasn’t the constant questions, he could deal with those, and almost a quarter were perfectly valid anyway. No, it was the constant stream of conversation between the two lads. Because not only was it incomprehensible to Ray, but it was also conducted at high volume, because both spent most of their time with headphones glued to their ears. He kept asking them to take them out, but they took no notice. They probably knew that he was for the chop, Ray thought gloomily, and that didn’t help brighten his mood either.

  But it’s funny how quickly your opinion of someone can change.

  ‘Ray, Ray’ shouted Matt, the younger and louder of the two, ‘I’ve got something here, look.’

  Dixon got up slowly, wondering if he had any pain killers in his desk drawer.

  ‘What is it this time, son?’

  ‘How about a call from Capstick’s mobile to a satellite phone, made on Friday evening at 1907?’

  ‘Fuck off, Matt, there wasn’t any call like that. I have checked you know. I’m not totally a total bloody techno-whatsit.’

  ‘You checked his registered SIM, but I’ve checked his phone. That’s totally different, mate. He made one call, or someone did, using Capstick’s phone and a different SIM card. A pay-as-you go one, as you’d expect.’

  ‘Bloody hell. Shit, I had no idea you could trace that.’ Dixon felt his blood pressure climbing further. His face was going red now, he was sure of it. ‘Tell me about this satellite phone.’

  ‘Give me a chance. I only found it five minutes ago. I’ll have to phone HQ, and find out how much we can get about it, but I don’t think it’s very much to be honest. All I know so far is that it wasn’t sold in the UK, and isn’t registered here either.’

  ‘Can you tell where they both were when the call was made? Where Capstick’s phone was, I mean.’

  ‘Capstick’s phone, sure, he was in Flookburgh. But the satellite phone is a no, because it doesn’t use the masts, does it?’

  ‘Shit. I didn’t know that.’

  ‘The clue’s in the name, Ray. That’s why it’s called a satellite phone. The phone talks to the satellite. So it could have been anywhere, pretty much.’

  Normally that would have earned Matt an earful, but not today.

  ‘Right, you two. Drop everything and get this sorted. I want to know everything, everything mind, that there is to know about that satellite phone, and I want to know it this morning.’

  Two hours later Dixon was sitting alongside Ian Mann in Andy Hall’s office.

  ‘Nice one, Ray’ said Hall.

  ‘It was you who got those bloody kids in to help. I would never have known otherwise. So what’s the craic from here then, boss? Bring Capstick in?’

  ‘Ian?’ asked Hall. ‘What’s your feeling?’

  ‘Do we know if he’d called that sat-phone, or any other, previously?’

  Dixon shook his head. ‘Not yet. But they will know, for both the num
bers that Capstick has. They say it’ll take another few hours. I’ve only asked them to go back twelve months though. Is that right?’

  ‘That’s plenty’ said Hall. ‘Did you ask them to work backwards, checking the most recent dates first?’

  ‘Aye, I did. I know that’s how you like it done, boss. So you’re still thinking that Capstick might be new to the game, then?’

  ‘It’s certainly a possibility. Capstick doesn’t seem any richer than he was, and if he was up to no good wouldn’t Jack, or one of the other fishermen, have seen it before? I’d have thought it was likely. Anyway, Ian, you reckon we should wait until we’ve got the full picture on Capstick’s phone, then?’

  ‘I do, aye. We all saw him at that memorial service yesterday, and he was in a terrible state. I’ve been to a few of those in my time, and they’re not fun when it’s a mate who’s gone, I can tell you. But even so, I’ve never seen the like. I hear he was so pissed afterwards that they literally had to carry him home from Betty’s house.’

  ‘Agreed’ said Hall. ‘Let’s wait. He’s not a flight risk; he hasn’t got the imagination, poor sod. But do we bring him in here, or talk to him at his place?’

  ‘Here’ said Mann firmly. ‘Let’s pressurise him.’

  ‘OK’ said Hall, sounding slightly uncertain. He reached for the phone. ‘I’ll just give Geoff a ring, shall I? See what he thinks.’

  Hall made the call, and Dixon and Mann listened to half the conversation. But they knew what Atkinson had suggested before Hall had even put the phone down.

  ‘He says that he agrees, here would be best. But he’s saying it might make sense if he brought him in, rather than us. I said yes to that. I’m a bit worried that he might go to pieces completely, that we might not be able to get a word of sense out of the bloke.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s wise, Andy?’ said Mann.

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Just feels wrong, somehow.’

  ‘OK then, how about you drive them both in? When we’re done here maybe call Geoff and let him know. Tell him the Super is on my back, whatever.’

  ‘Not a problem’ said Mann. ‘When will we do it?’

  ‘Tell Geoff tomorrow morning, not too early. Let’s try to get Capstick before he’s been on the sauce for too long if we can, though. And Ray, can you get the Police doctor to come in as well, say for ten, so we can get Capstick checked over first. I wouldn’t be amazed if we end up not being able to interview him at all, but better that than get a confession ruled inadmissible later.’

  Dixon nodded, but Hall could see that Mann wasn’t happy. It was never difficult to tell.

  ‘Come on, Ian’ said Hall. ‘You know the rules.’

  ‘Aye, of course. But Capstick’s right in this, isn’t he? A man is dead because of him, and we need to bloody nail him for it, no matter what some bleeding-heart bloody quack says. If the bastard has PTSD or whatever it’s down to him, no-one else. He needs to face up to the consequences of what he’s done, like a man.’

  Both Hall and Dixon were taken aback. It wasn’t like Ian Mann to say that much all at once, nor to give much away about how he felt. But Hall thought that the memorial service had touched a nerve, and that Mann had begun to associate Jack Bell with some of his own fallen comrades, somewhere in the inner reaches of his mind. And, not for the first time or for the last, DI Andy Hall had guessed right.

  Tuesday, June 25th

  Ian Mann sat and waited in Pete Capstick’s living room while he got dressed. It took a while. Geoff Atkinson didn’t say much, and Mann was pleased about that.

  ‘You’re coming to the station voluntarily’ said Mann, when Capstick returned, ‘but there’s nothing to stop you having a lawyer present. I would, if I were you.’

  ‘No, you’re all right. I’m sure Geoff will see me right.’ Capstick’s voice was thick with tiredness and half-metabolised booze.

  ‘It’s fine for Geoff to be present in the interview if that’s what you want, but you understand that he’s not your lawyer? He’s actually assisting us with this enquiry.’

  ‘Aye, I get it. Let’s be on our way and get it over with.’

  ‘Don’t you want a bit of breakfast before we go?’

  Capstick laughed briefly. ‘You wouldn’t want to see what I put on my cereal.’

  Mann nodded. ‘Well I’m peckish, and I bet Geoff is too. So let’s stop at the farm shop and maybe get a bacon roll. It’ll keep us all going.’

  Soak up the alcohol more like, thought Atkinson, getting up as Mann did. Capstick was slower getting to his feet, and Atkinson had to take his door keys to lock up. Capstick had three goes first, and he never even touched the lock.

  Andy Hall had taken his laptop down to the observation room as soon as heard that Capstick had been booked in. Ray Dixon knocked and came in.

  ‘We’re on with it in a minute, boss. The doc says he’s all right. The bacon sarnie that Ian managed to get him to eat must have soaked up a bit of whatever it was he’s been drinking. It was touch and go, though. So you want me to take it easy on him, or what?’

  ‘Yes, I do. Ian’s got a bit wound up about all this, and even if he doesn’t say a word he’s still pretty intimidating.’

  ‘He certainly scares me.’

  ‘Exactly, and I’ve asked him to leave it to you, unless you explicitly invite him to chip in.’

  ‘You know what, boss?’

  ‘No, what?’

  ‘I’m as nervous as a kitten.’

  Hall looked visibly surprised, and Dixon could count on the fingers of one hand the times that he’d seen that.

  ‘Why? You must have done this thousands of times over the years. And Capstick’s not what you’d call a criminal mastermind, is he?’

  ‘No, it’s not that. If his brains were dynamite he couldn’t blow off his ears. But this might be the last one of these I ever do. The last time that I get to sit across a table from someone, tell the difference between truth and lies, and try to look right into their soul, like.’

  ‘That’s very poetic for you, Ray. Carry on like this and you’ll spend your retirement writing sonnets and painting watercolours.’

  ‘Not if my missus has anything to do with it. The only painting I’ll be doing is the bloody bathroom.’

  Ray Dixon took it slow, and gave Capstick time to settle in the room, get used to it. Hall watched him looking round, blinking, trying to take it in. Atkinson was sitting on the same side of the table as Capstick, and Hall couldn’t tell if his upright posture was only the result of spending thirty years in uniform.

  Dixon spent ten minutes going over the events of the evening of the fourteenth one more time, ‘just so it’s all on the tape’, and he hardly followed up on anything that Capstick said, and just seemed at accept it all. Once or twice he asked for clarification, or a bit more detail, but not often. And when he changed the subject, Dixon did it without even the slightest change in tone.

  ‘So, Pete, do you know what a satellite phone is?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Have you got one?’

  ‘No. I’m a net fisherman, not a bloody deep sea trawler skipper.’ Hall didn’t think he looked remotely concerned.

  ‘Do you know anyone who has one?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Aye, I just told you.’

  Dixon didn’t follow up immediately, and Hall felt himself relax as he watched and listened. Ray was doing well.

  ‘Does anyone else have access to your mobile phone, Pete?’

  ‘No, ‘course not. Everyone’s got their own.’

  ‘What, you never lend it to anyone?’

  ‘Well, maybe one of the lads has phoned for a cab home from the pub on it the odd time, that sort of thing. But not lately.’

  ‘Does anyone ever borrow it, and put their own SIM card in?’

  ‘No.’ Hall could see that Capstick was starting to get agitated. The tremor in his left leg was getting worse. Hall could see the wat
er in his glass starting to ripple from the vibration caused by his leg being in contact with the table. But maybe it was just down to the booze.

  Once again Ray backed off, and changed tack again.

  ‘Let’s go back to last Friday the fourteenth again, shall we? You say you had a kip in the afternoon, made something to eat at about five, and from about half-six you were out in the yard, getting the gear ready for the night’s fishing.’

  ‘Aye, that’s right.’

  ‘And there wasn’t anyone with you? No visitors, anything like that?’

  ‘Like I told you, no. I was on my own. I didn’t see a soul.’

  ‘OK. And where was your phone, all this time? Do you carry it with you, or do you leave it in the house or somewhere?’

  ‘I have it in my pocket all the time. It’s got a waterproof case, so it’s OK to take it out on the Bay. It’s a good safety precaution, like.’

  ‘Have you got it with you now?’

  ‘Aye.’ Capstick pulled his phone from his left hand trouser pocket and put it on the table.

  ‘So on the day that Jack went missing, that Friday, did you have the phone with you the whole time?’

  For the first time Capstick hesitated.

  ‘Aye. I don’t remember exactly, but I expect so. I don’t know for certain.’ For the first time he glanced across at Atkinson.

  ‘Try to think back for me, Pete. Did you have it with you the whole time?’

  Again there was a pause, and a long one.

  ‘I just can’t remember, not for certain.’

  ‘Would you mind if we borrowed your phone, just for half an hour? We can ask one of our people to check for other fingerprints on it, on the SIM card, whatever. Would that be all right? We’d be able to see if anyone else had handled it, see?’