‘Is that the ballistics report?’ Grace asked eagerly, reaching out her hand for the paper.
‘On the Gordon Church shooting,’ said Duncan. ‘Nothing back yet on the bags from the creek. But the marks on the shell casing found in the hospital car park match those from the Dunholt murders.’
‘Yes!’ Grace clenched both fists and raised them above her head in elation. Duncan too was smiling broadly.
‘The brass also has the same military head stamps,’ said Lance, staring meaningfully at Grace. ‘Almost like they came from the same batch.’
‘Except that whoever is producing these bullets seems pretty prolific,’ said Duncan. ‘Ammo from the same supplier has already been linked to a drive-by shooting in north London, an unrelated gang shooting in Manchester, two armed robberies in Birmingham and four other non-fatal incidents across London. Now we know what to look for, a lot more may turn up.’
‘Does the boss know?’ she asked, trying to deflect Lance. The conversation he wanted to have would have to wait until later.
‘Not yet,’ said Duncan.
Lance forced a smile. ‘I’d better get back to chasing down all Church’s contacts around the time of his release,’ he said, slipping out past his colleague.
Duncan raised an eyebrow at Grace. ‘Is he OK?’
‘I hope so.’
‘He should have taken his full entitlement of compassionate leave,’ said Duncan. ‘I keep telling him to.’
‘I know.’ She touched his arm as she came out from behind her desk. ‘Thanks.’
‘Don’t worry, boss. We’ll make sure he gets over this.’
She was yet again grateful for the compassion beneath the detective’s blokey exterior; it went a little way towards assuaging her fear that she was mishandling her own friendship with Lance. Yet it was essential to rein Lance in until their case against the Kirkbys was unassailable.
Grace tapped on the superintendent’s door, and he beckoned her in. Colin was equally delighted with the latest development in the Church case and, like her, impatient for results that would bring them nearer to Leonard Ingold’s arrest.
‘What about the daughter?’ he asked. ‘Are you intending to tell Ingold where we got the information?’
‘No, absolutely not. Anonymous tip-off. He can make of that what he will, although I can’t imagine he’ll come up with a very big cast of likely candidates.’
‘No,’ said Colin. ‘But if that’s your strategy, then we don’t want the girl getting a fit of the vapours and throwing a wobbly when we least expect it.’
‘No, sir. But I’d still like to leave her father to work the truth out for himself rather than us give her away.’
‘Lance is trained as a family liaison officer, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, I think so, but I really don’t—’
Ignoring her, Colin beckoned over her shoulder for Lance to join them in his office. ‘You’re Robyn Ingold’s confidant, right?’ he asked.
‘She gave me the information, yes,’ said Lance cautiously, glancing at Grace, who did her best to signal a silent and urgent ‘No’ at him.
‘Good,’ said Colin. ‘Then you can be her FLO. Once we arrest her father, I want you to make sure you get to her before her mother or anyone else does. Stick with her. Assure her we’ll do our best to keep her secret as long as she wants it kept. OK?’
‘Yes, sir.’ This time Lance studiously avoided looking at Grace.
‘So what’s your interview strategy?’ Colin asked Grace. ‘Is this link to the Church murder going to help us?’
‘I imagine Ingold must take pains not to know where his weapons and ammunition end up,’ she said.
‘He must regard a few innocent victims as an unfortunate side effect,’ said Lance. ‘If he was that easily shaken, he’d have given up years ago.’
‘That’s my feeling too,’ said Grace. ‘Although his daughter’s friend was among the Dunholt fatalities. That may have shifted the balance a little in our favour.’
Colin did not appear convinced. ‘What about his premises?’ he asked. ‘Do you expect a search to throw up anything of interest?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘His workshop is pristine. I reckon he’s already dumped anything incriminating. But his bookkeeping may give us some leads, and I’d like to look into the companies that make regular secure collections for him, and check out all the delivery addresses.’
‘That’ll send a clear signal that we’re not going to go away easily,’ said Colin. ‘So what other buttons can we press? What about his profits? Now he knows we’re watching him, he’s going to have to lie low for a while, if not pack up completely. So he’ll want to hang on to what he’s got. We could always try threatening him with the Proceeds of Crime Act.’
Grace was aware of Lance once again looking at her intently, willing her to spill the beans on the Vale do Lobo villa. Looking straight ahead, she said calmly, ‘We know he pays private school fees. No doubt he takes foreign holidays. As soon as we have grounds to arrest him, and hear what he has to say, then we’ll start taking his life apart, piece by piece.’
She turned to face Lance and was shocked by his bitter look of disbelief. Hating herself, she willed him to understand that she was striving to find and to follow the best path to the truth.
Behind them a loud whooping cheer burst out, and they turned as Duncan hurried into Colin’s office. ‘Got him!’ cried Duncan jubilantly. ‘There’s a match on the repriming tool. We’ve got the bastard!’
Amid the handshaking and congratulations, she heard Colin’s voice. ‘What are you waiting for, DI Fisher? Go and pick him up!’
50
Grace had never made an arrest without an awareness of how the act of depriving a person of their liberty was the ultimate demonstration of police power. Some people froze like a rabbit in headlights, instantly ceding control; others struggled, spitting, swearing and lashing out; Leonard Ingold appeared oblivious to the inevitability of his eventual submission. She had deliberately chosen Duncan to accompany her, hoping that the switch in power between two men who had previously enjoyed a friendly acquaintance would unsettle Leonard, and was disappointed when he greeted Duncan with unperturbed courtesy. Only the long steady look he directed towards his anxious wife hinted at any possible misgivings.
Since Nicola, as Leonard’s authorized ‘servant’, was permitted to handle weapons and ammunition on his behalf, Grace could have arrested her as well, but she had taken the decision to wait, gambling on the notion that if Nicola were offered time alone in which to dwell on their predicament she might, when eventually brought in for questioning under caution, prove more pliant than her husband. Time would tell how much she really knew about, or participated in, her husband’s criminal dealings.
Grace and Duncan drove back to Colchester without directly addressing their silent passenger in the back seat. Glancing at him in the rear-view mirror, Grace longed to know what kind of conversation had taken place between Robyn and her parents after the dredger had been hauled back to Tollesbury last Saturday. Surely Leonard must have realized that the information had come from his family or someone else close to the heart of his business? Had he really not guessed, or was he in denial? Yet he appeared to gaze out at the passing countryside without a flicker of emotion.
Once booked into custody, Grace walked with him to the cell where he’d have to wait until his solicitor arrived. As the door was opened she saw him take a quick look around and wrinkle his nose in distaste, but he walked in without hesitation and politely accepted her offer of a cup of tea.
The first move made by Leonard’s lawyer – a partner in a reliable local firm that dealt frequently with the Major Investigation Team – was to seek assurances that the police would not revoke his certificate of registration as a firearms dealer unless they could immediately lay out their grounds for doing so. Grace left it to Duncan to respond, having already briefed him to lead the interview. Duncan began by reminding Leonard that this was a ‘first account’ interview –
his chance to offer whatever innocent explanation he had for the evidence that would be put to him.
Although fully expecting him to answer ‘No comment’ to every question, Grace watched him closely. His face was weathered, his cheeks ruddy, and grey just starting to colour his sandy-brown hair; his body language was alert and respectful, yet she knew that, sooner or later, everyone gave something away. Often a suspect would start clowning or overdo the bravado in order to mask their true emotions, before shifting uneasily in their chair, scratching or simply failing to hide their shame or anguish. Leonard focused his gaze on a spot behind her left shoulder, just to the right of Duncan’s head, and folded his hands in his lap, apparently ready to pay careful attention to everything they said.
‘How can you account for the fact that we’ve found a bag of tools used to self-load ammunition dumped in the creek yards from your workshop?’ asked Duncan.
‘No comment.’
‘Did you put them there?’
‘No comment.’
‘Do you know who did put them there?’
‘No comment.’
‘Do you know of anyone who would know they were there?’
Grace studied Leonard’s expression, but there wasn’t the tiniest flinch.
‘No comment.’
‘Are you aware of what tools were in the bag?’
‘No comment.’
‘One of the tools has been linked forensically to firearms offences up and down the country. Do you have anything to say about that?’
‘No comment.’
‘Have you ever used the nickname the Lion King?’
Leonard allowed himself an amused smile. ‘No comment.’
‘In your hearing, has anyone ever called you the Lion King?’
‘No comment.’
‘What’s the nature of your professional relationship with Kenny Elgin, your most regular delivery driver?’
‘No comment.’
For the first time Grace spotted an involuntary reaction as his pupils dilated and contracted. His hazel-green eyes slid sideways to look directly at her for a second, and – maybe it was her imagination – she glimpsed an icy coldness in their depths. She thought back to the look he’d given his wife as they’d left his house. It had seemed to suggest a degree of complicity, that Nicola well understood the need for concealment. Yet Grace had also been intrigued by how effectively Nicola’s nerves appeared to have been soothed by Leonard’s warning look and wondered how much she was habituated to his control. Was she a victim or a willing partner?
‘What does the name Angie Turner mean to you?’ Duncan’s questions continued remorselessly.
‘No comment.’
Grace observed a slight movement in Leonard’s cheeks as he clenched his jaw.
‘Angie and her grandmother were both shot dead by self-loaded bullets primed by the tool found in the creek,’ said Duncan. ‘The bullets had military shell casings of the type you told me could be purchased from a range warden at the Stanford Training Area. Did you know that Angie Turner was at school with your daughter, Robyn?’
‘No comment.’
Leonard’s chest rose and fell more noticeably beneath his faded Viyella shirt, but otherwise he did not move. Grace couldn’t resist admiring the man’s iron self-control. Beginning to understand how effectively disguised he was by his impenetrable ordinariness, she saw how Robyn had simply never questioned her father’s actions. Her heart ached for the girl.
After her ex-husband’s vicious assault, when he’d acted as though nothing much had really happened, Grace had constantly blamed herself for failing to see what was coming, for not realizing what the man she’d married was like. But she had been an adult. Very much in love, she’d chosen not to pay any attention to the warning signs. But for all her intelligence Robyn was still a child; the entire kingdom of her life had been ruled by a man who seemed to possess a remarkable ability to present himself as something totally unremarkable, as completely other than he was.
Grace couldn’t imagine being able to fathom what lay behind his bland facade. Did he simply block out unwelcome realities by psychologically disassociating himself from the grisly end results of his illegal trade? Or could he be far more deeply implicated though his links with Jerry Coghlan than they yet knew?
Duncan wrapped up his final questions and ended the interview. Leonard allowed himself a deep sigh of resignation when informed that he’d be spending the night in a cell. Grace wanted to give him plenty of time in which to contemplate his possible future before she and Duncan interviewed him again in the morning – not that she expected him to change his tune.
Making her way upstairs, she checked her phone. There was a text from Lance to let her know that he’d managed to intercept Robyn at the school gates and had warned her of Leonard’s arrest, and also that luckily Robyn had already arranged to stay the night with a school friend. She texted back to confirm she’d got the message, her mind on Robyn’s predicament. By the time the girl finished school tomorrow, Leonard would almost certainly have been released and – at least until Grace managed to obtain the crucial but elusive evidence she still needed to charge him – Robyn and her parents could all go back to pretending they were just a normal happy family.
Except that, even if her parents never knew of the part Robyn had played, her actions would mark her for the rest of her life. Grace ought to call Lance, not just text – he would probably be at home by now – but she hesitated. Her sharpest regret was that circumstance had made him the conduit for Robyn’s betrayal. No police officer could ever be happy about playing a part in that. As SIO, Grace, not Lance, should have been the one to take that burden on her shoulders. Hoping that, with all the pressure he was under, she wasn’t asking too much of him, she decided she could wait to speak to him in the morning.
51
Leonard Ingold was released on police bail at lunchtime the following day. The custody sergeant informed Grace that his wife had come to pick him up. Busy the rest of the afternoon with the Gordon Church shooting, Grace was glad to get home about seven o’clock. She was just about to pour herself a glass of wine when she received a call from Ben Marrington asking her to return immediately to police HQ. He told her briefly that Nicola Ingold had called the station at six o’clock to report that her daughter had gone missing. Robyn had apparently skipped school, lied about where she’d spent last night, and her phone was switched off. Nicola and her husband had insisted on coming into the station, where they were specifically asking to speak to Grace.
Breathing through the waves of guilt and apprehension that threatened to engulf her, she called Lance to see what recent contact he’d had with the girl, but his phone too was switched off. He’d been fine this morning, and had appeared sanguine about Ingold’s release on bail. When he’d asked to leave work early because he’d promised to help out a friend, she’d been happy to grant his request. Should she have paid more attention?
It took her twenty minutes to drive back to HQ. When she reached the car park, she tried Lance again: nothing.
Ben Marrington was waiting for her upstairs, accompanied by Colin. She was surprised not only that the superintendent had been called but that he had deemed the situation serious enough to come in. She soon discovered why.
‘Warren Cox is in the prison hospital wing after a knife attack late this afternoon,’ he said.
‘Will he be OK?’
‘They think so, yes,’ said Colin. ‘Cox is claiming it’s self-inflicted, which means he’s scared. What do you reckon? Is it linked to Ingold’s arrest?’
‘All Warren Cox ever gave me was a nickname,’ said Grace. ‘I’m certain that he didn’t actually know Ingold’s identity.’ She tried to think back. ‘But I did pay my first visit to Ingold’s workshop shortly after talking to Warren at the prison.’ She had also been attacked on her early-morning run the following day, but she didn’t feel like explaining that to Colin. ‘If the knife attack on Warren is Ingold’s way of sending a me
ssage not to be a grass, then he has extremely fast and effective lines of communication.’
‘So what about his missing daughter?’ asked Colin. ‘I’ve filled Inspector Marrington in on the background. Has she just run away rather than face her parents, or is this linked to the attack on Warren Cox?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Grace, her mind racing. She turned to Ben. ‘What have her parents said so far?’
‘They think she’s been snatched in order to ensure Leonard doesn’t cooperate with us by naming names.’
Grace was shocked, and looked from Ben to Colin. ‘Have they received any kind of communication that suggests this?’ She prayed that neither Curtis Mullins nor Adam Kirkby had abducted the girl. ‘Should we consider kidnap a credible possibility?’
Colin shook his head. ‘Personally, I think she regrets what she’s done and has run away. My daughter’s fifteen. In my view, that’s exactly how a teenager would react to stress. Have you spoken to DS Cooper? What’s his take?’
Grace willed herself to sound totally matter-of-fact. ‘I haven’t been able to reach him yet. Let me try again.’ She took out her phone, willing her fingers not to tremble. Lance’s phone was still switched off. She shook her head. ‘No joy. Maybe he’s at the cinema or something.’
Ben gave Grace a level look, and she had the uncomfortable impression that he could read her mind, though there was no way he could guess at the crazy suspicions that were beginning to grip her.
‘I think we must take the kidnap threat seriously,’ she said. ‘After all, there could be hundreds of criminals out there afraid of what information Ingold might be prepared to share with us. Not least whoever shot Gordon Church. His bullets came from Ingold’s workshop, remember.’
‘Well, if Ingold wants our help finding Robyn, he needs to give us some names,’ said Colin. ‘Time to get heavy.’
‘They’re parents,’ said Ben quietly. ‘Their daughter is missing and they came to us for help.’
Grace had to agree. If Robyn’s mum and dad couldn’t turn to the police to find their daughter and bring her home safe and sound, then to whom could they go for help?
Shot Through the Heart: DI Grace Fisher 2 Page 27
