‘That’s not good enough.’
Greenway thumped a big fist down on the table and DI Campbell, standing over by the door, was the only one who jumped. ‘But they might have been giving you a stack of lies, mightn’t they? Just give us the story and then everyone can get on with investigating to see if there’s any truth in what you say!’
‘OK,’ Hopkins said reluctantly. Then, after another long pause, continued, ‘They decided to cart him off to the tip and chuck him in a skip or something like that – to teach him a lesson, like. But it went wrong. They went to Cooper’s in Dave’s car and he’d got this can of motor oil that he’d pinched from work – he works at that place that sells and services posh motorbikes. It wasn’t quite full and he hadn’t put the top back on right – it fell over and spilled all over the back seat. So they had to clear that up a bit and Dave was furious as the oil was posh too and he already had a buyer for it. When they got to Cooper’s Mallory was there. He’s a real creep, a junkie. Cooper treated him like a doormat, made him run errands all the time. They was in the middle of a row as Mallory wanted money, and a fix, and Cooper was saying no. He was horrible to that man and hit him several times and—’ Here Hopkins broke off and actually seemed distressed.
‘Please continue,’ Greenway urged quietly.
‘The boys all took exception to this as … Well, OK, Mallory’s a creep but he’s weak and pathetic and no one likes to see a man kicked when he’s down.’
I put a large exclamation mark on my notepad but made no comment.
‘They got hold of Cooper, really keen to take him to the tip now and chuck him into something he couldn’t get out of in a hurry. Then this cop rolled up. The boys didn’t know he was a cop but Cooper and Mallory did. The bloke was drunk, stoned out of his mind and was raving that he was going to get Cooper if it killed him. Then he collapsed. Went down like a ninepin. And he was burning hot, perhaps sick as a parrot rather than been on the booze.’
I looked at Campbell, who dropped his gaze.
‘Anyway,’ Hopkins went on, really getting into his stride now. ‘They looked in his wallet for some kind of identification, to double-check, like, and as well as finding out that he was a DCI Dave found a photograph of the boss so they knew the cop was on to him too. He kept it. Then they used the cop’s car – he’d left it nearby on the double yellows – as they couldn’t all get into one. They didn’t know what to do with him really but took him along and Dave drove it to the tip with the others following in his, Ned driving it. God knows how, Ned could hardly walk he was so pissed, let alone drive. Mallory wouldn’t be left out and went along as well. They couldn’t stop him.’
‘And?’ I said.
‘Mallory killed Cooper. He went mad when they’d broken into the tip. Hunted through Dave’s and the cop’s car boots – they didn’t know what the hell he was after until he found the hammer – and shoved Cooper over before bashing him over the head with it. He was crazy, insane, right off his rocker and threatened all the guys with it, demanding some kind of knife. Dave had one, a Scottish thing which he said was a good luck charm but he didn’t want it no more as it hadn’t brought him any. Someone helped Mallory heave Cooper – they all thought he was dead, actually – into a skip where Mallory used the knife on him. God knows what he did – we couldn’t see and didn’t want to. Then everyone scarpered before Mallory could climb out and start on them too.’
‘They took both cars?’ Greenway asked sharply.
‘Too right. Didn’t want to leave the lunatic with any transport.’
‘So wasn’t Mallory’s car parked near Cooper’s place?’
‘God knows. Perhaps they’d both arrived together.’
‘They didn’t see where the man went or what he did with the hammer and the knife?’
‘No, and they shoved the cop out of sight somewhere. No one wanted that madman to get him as well.’
‘Really?’ Greenway enquired in utter disbelief.
‘Not bloody likely. It would have made them accessories, or whatever you lot call it, to murdering a cop. Not only that, Dave said it would’ve been like leavin’ a baby to drown.’ And, on an afterthought, ‘They was stoned, of course.’
‘But they’d found the photo,’ I said, needing to get one small detail right in my mind. ‘And as you said, that meant the cop was on to Hamsworth. Wasn’t that an unwise thing to do, to just leave him there, a danger to the boss?’
Hopkins frowned deeply. ‘Look, lady, I wasn’t there, and as I keep sayin’, they was stoned. There had been talk of us all gettin’ out and leavin’ him with his London boys, a right dodgy lot. Too much trouble, too many risks of us gettin’ blamed for anything they did out of line. As it was, Dave told him the cop went off his head and killed Cooper in case he got mad at us for not stoppin’ Mallory. We wanted out and to hell with him.’
‘But they’ve gone off, presumably with him, now,’ Greenway pointed out.
‘Yeah, well, he offered them more money, didn’t he?’
‘But not you?’ the commander went on to ask, I’m sure also from the need for absolute accuracy.
‘No, not me,’ Kev muttered.
I didn’t quite feel sorry for him.
‘He’s far too unimaginative and stupid to be able to make all that up,’ Greenway said a little later. ‘And so probably are the rest of them, come to think of it. My only slight reservation is that they remembered afterwards what had happened.’
He and I were in Campbell’s office, the DI having arranged coffee and biscuits.
‘I reckon he’ll plead guilty to the lesser charges if a deal’s done with him and he’s told he’ll probably be out of the frame for Cooper’s murder,’ the commander went on. ‘That story is so perfect, so absolutely believable I think I could write the screenplay if Hollywood ever wanted to film it. What say you, Ingrid?’
‘Likewise,’ I replied.
‘So what’s it to be, Detective Inspector?’ Greenway continued. ‘Do I go and pay a quick call on your DCI to admire the new baby and tell him he’s no longer charged with murder and free to come back to work as soon as he’s well enough?’
‘I’ve already put out a warrant for Paul Mallory’s arrest and Lynn Outhwaite’s gone round, with backup, to his address,’ Campbell hastened to say. ‘It’s likely that Mallory did see where they put Carrick and was rational enough by that time to think it might save his skin if he wiped the knife and then got Carrick’s fingerprints on it before tossing it into the skip. We don’t yet know what he did with the hammer. And yes, sir, by all means.’ He added, ruefully, ‘I’d better go and pack my bags.’
The commander got to his feet. ‘I hardly think that’ll be necessary if you make suitably regretful noises. I won’t be able to come down again but I’d like Patrick Gillard to interview Hopkins if we can’t manage to track down this Raptor character. Just to see if he can give us any leads, however small, as to his possible whereabouts. I suggest you don’t release him on police bail – partly for his own safety but mostly to prevent him from communi-cating with anyone.’ When we had left the room Greenway said to me, ‘There was a bank raid last week in Ascot that the Met thinks was Hamsworth’s doing. Very efficient and run on military lines, according to witnesses.’
But Patrick Gillard remained off the map.
FIFTEEN
I had established, from Carrick, that Lynn Outhwaite was still keeping in contact with the girl at the club who had been ordered to compromise him that night. Other than saying that it was Kev who had told her what to do she was continuing to refuse to answer any more questions about the club or the people who had worked there, out of fear, Lynn knew. The DS rang me while Greenway and I were at the Carrick’s to tell me that Mallory had not been at home, and, according to others questioned who lived in the same terrace, his car had disappeared two or three days previously.
An obviously delighted James, in a mood to get in his car and head for Bath on the receipt of the news, had merely smiled broadly whe
n informed that Campbell was all ready to pack his bags. Then he had said, ‘I’ll take him out and we’ll get drunk together.’
‘How did you know about Hopkins?’ I asked the commander as I gave him a lift back to the station.
‘From your husband. Before he went undercover he called me and said the same kind of thing that you did – that I ought to get my head out of the sand and take more responsibility over this.’
‘I didn’t put it quite so rudely as that,’ I demurred.
‘No, but you two have a way of speaking politely that’s actually like a kick in the pants.’
I had thought long and hard about what I was about to say next. ‘There’s something I think you ought to know.’
‘That he’s going to get Hamsworth, whatever it takes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even though Carrick’s off the hook?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘I’m learning, aren’t I? He’s hard-wired like that. It was one of the reasons Richard Daws hired him.’
As we parted, the commander said, ‘Don’t worry – even if he brings me the man’s head par-boiled on a silver platter I’ll think of something.’
Not for the first time, I found myself admiring him enormously.
I wanted to contact Patrick for several reasons, not least because of the strong likelihood now that Mallory had murdered Cooper and Patrick no longer had his promise to James as one of his priorities. But none of my reasons could be regarded as emergencies, unless my going off the rails with worry counted for anything. So, as usual, and again unable to concentrate on writing, I plunged myself into domesticity and motherhood, taking down and sending to the cleaners the living-room curtains that we had ‘inherited’ from Elspeth when we bought the rectory, unpacking the last of the boxes of our move and lugging most of the contents off to charity shops, and taking the two eldest children riding, the last, of course, a joy.
‘You don’t think Mark might be gay?’ Carrie said out of the blue the morning after yet another day engaged in a housework maelstrom not included in the cleaner’s brief when I was hunting around for something else to do. ‘I mean, he’s so downright sweet.’
I was actually glad of any interruption. ‘He’s always been a bit sort of girlie, hasn’t he?’ I replied thoughtfully.
‘Vicky’s given him one of her dolls as he likes it so much. Don’t worry, it’s a soft toy and I’ve checked, he can’t swallow any of it.’
‘Better not mention it to Patrick. We won’t really know for sure for ages and if it’s true it’ll take a while for him to get used to the idea.’
‘Military men are often like that though, aren’t they?’ she observed thoughtfully and went away again.
It was just after midnight when my mobile phone rang, jerking me from sleep.
‘Hi,’ said a familiar voice. ‘Everything all right?’
I told him what Kev had said. There was no need to point out the implications.
Patrick is not a man to go in for cowboy whoops of joy but after saying he was really pleased for James’s sake he went on, ‘Word has it that Hamsworth has a small chain of clubs, mostly in the east of the city and a high-end hush-hush one in a big private house on the edge of South Woodford. There’s a chance that it’s his actual home so my next job is to pin-point the place.’
‘And then arrange a raid?’
‘Only if he’s guaranteed to be there. Otherwise he’d disappear to somewhere like Equador for ever. Did Greenway mention the shooting?’
‘No.’
‘Nothing at all? Nothing about now having armed protection?’
‘Not a word, and I didn’t quite like to ask.’
‘Perhaps I should have winged him.’
‘Who helped you?’
‘Someone in the Diplomatic Protection team. He just removed the plates from his bike, no bother.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘Sitting under a bridge on the towpath of a disused canal. The rats are as big as ponies.’
‘Do you want me to do anything?’
‘Yes, stay right where you are. I can’t talk any more now. I love ya, kid.’
And he had gone.
I could not sleep for the rest of that night.
At ten-thirty the next morning I had a call from the person at SOCA HQ to whom Patrick had given Jonno’s mobile phone for examination. He wanted to know how he could contact Patrick as he did not wish to consign the information to an ordinary email. I had to tell him that he would have to give a message to me, for forwarding if possible, and I would instigate any immediate action necessary. What he told me, deliberately vaguely, ultra cautious over an open line, was absolutely staggering. Finally, he promised to send a full report via Recorded Delivery.
In short, the information gleaned, several voice messages that for some reason had not been deleted, gave every indication that Jonno had been begging for help from a person calling himself Nick who had told him – my caller saying he had censored the language – to stop wingeing, grow up and never to contact him again. Jonno, it would appear, had been responsible in some way for the death of someone referred to as ‘your old man’.
That would be his father, Paul Smithson, the police officer.
I was in a real quandary now as I would have to contact the Met immediately about this but had no idea who was handling the case, if indeed there was one, the man in question being deemed to have committed suicide. And in view of the illicit manner in which the evidence had been obtained …
‘With regard to our previous conversation,’ I began when Greenway answered his phone.
‘Anything fairly concrete about anything right now would make my day,’ he admitted briskly.
I gave him the story.
‘That’s great news and sounds very much like our friend Hamsworth. I shall arrange to listen to the recordings, get them copied and pass them on. We have a way round this even though the evidence might not be presented in court. The line to Jonno will be that a mugging suspect was stopped, searched, and stolen items were found in his possession. Jonno was mugged, end of story.’
‘Do you know if there have been any test results on that ten-pound note Mrs Smithson gave Patrick?’
‘No, that hasn’t come my way yet.’
‘Is Patrick keeping in touch with you?’
‘Not really because, as you know, it’s too dangerous. The only information I have is that he’s helping out in exchange for dossing down in a Salvation Army hostel somewhere in the East End.’ Obviously in a hurry Greenway ended the call with, ‘Thanks for the info. Good work.’
Not really? What the hell did that mean?
Quite oblivious until Elspeth told me that she too had done exactly the same when upset and angry, I went into the garden and, with vicious stabs, dug all the dandelions out of the lawn using an old chisel.
‘You’re sitting there as though you want me to do something,’ James Carrick said.
‘Are you back at work yet?’ I enquired from the comfort of a brand-new leather sofa and really feeling the effects of lack of sleep, not just the previous night either.
‘I went in for a couple of hours this morning with a view to catching up and mending a few fences with David Campbell. But to answer the question, I’m officially back next week, providing the doc says it’s OK.’
‘And the fences?’
He pulled a face. ‘It’ll take a while but we’ll have to cobble something together. If only Lynn was promoted …’ He waved his hands around orchestra conductor-style. ‘And?’
‘Has Mallory been found yet?’
‘He hasn’t even been sighted. A watch on railway stations and airports and all that kind of thing’s in place but, unfortunately, no sign of him.’
‘Will you help me find him?’
He gazed into space thoughtfully for a few moments and then said, ‘Personally, I think that because of the state that he must have been in after he killed Cooper – assuming of course that the story we’ve
been given is the correct one – it’s very likely his body will be found jammed against a weir somewhere on the River Avon.’
‘He wouldn’t necessarily need a car to do that – and it’s not at his place.’
‘But if he hasn’t killed himself?’
‘We could play detectives,’ I suggested jokingly.
‘I suppose I’d be easing myself back into the job.’
‘You would.’
‘Is this official SOCA-wise?’
I shook my head. ‘He’s regarded as being Avon and Somerset’s business.’
‘I’d go along with that. But I can understand your wanting to do something to take your mind off worrying about Patrick.’
‘I’ll admit that but Mallory is, or was, indirectly part of Hamsworth’s empire and if we find him …’ I shrugged and left the rest unsaid.
‘His flat’s been thoroughly searched,’ James went on to say. ‘He doesn’t have a computer and nothing in the way of paperwork, mostly unpaid bills, gave any clue as to where he might go if he needed to make a fast exit. No pictures of family or friends, no letters, nothing. Obviously, there are people working on it.’
‘We should still have a look around,’ I told him. ‘I’m very good at finding things that the police have missed.’
‘Are you now?’
‘You might have to swallow your professional pride a bit,’ I pointed out.
‘We’ve worked together before,’ he recollected. ‘D’you still wave guns around?’
I gave him the wrong kind of victory sign.
Aware that Patrick had also searched Paul Mallory’s flat and despite what I had said, I was not optimistic that we would find anything useful. Carrick told me that the police had had to break in to conduct their search and the front door was now secured with a makeshift padlocked contrivance. Not being in possession of Patrick’s ‘burglar’s’ keys, I asked Lynn Outhwaite for the key, promising to return it shortly. I left James’s name unmentioned as understandably, he did not want Campbell to think him interfering. She said she was glad of any additions to the team – but that was not quite what I had in mind.
Dark Side Page 19
