Hail and Farewell (The Lakeland Murders)

by J. J. Salkeld

  ‘Well, let me put your mind at rest then. Because Skinner was entirely supportive of your proposal. Much more so than I expected, truth be told. He said that he regards Bill Iredale as a friend, and he was frankly astonished that he had admitted to providing information to Hayton for the better part of twenty years. He also said that he would be willing to support any operation that exposed any other corrupt officers within his division.’

  ‘I see. And if I could ask, did you ask him if he felt that anyone on the strength was especially worthy of investigation?’

  Gorham smiled.

  ‘I did. And he did mention a couple of names. But I don’t think this is the time or place to talk about them.’

  ‘Don’t worry, ma’am. Smith and Hodgson, that’s who he mentioned.’

  ‘It is. Why, do you suspect them too? Could we simply make an arrest without the need for all of this cloak-and-dagger stuff?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. Smith and Hodgson are long-serving CID officers who’ve had lots of contact with Hayton and his gang down the years. So they’d simply be the obvious suspects. But they’re not involved. I’m almost certain of that.’

  ‘I know the way your mind works, DCI Hall. I sometimes think your brain is a kind of reverse Occam’s razor.’

  Hall smiled. ‘You mean I like things to be complicated? Perhaps, but it isn’t Smith and Hodgson. As I say, ma’am, I’m certain that they can be eliminated from the enquiry.’

  ‘All right, let’s leave that for another day. Because we have one other pressing matter to discuss.’

  ‘Yes, indeed. Do we wait to see what, if anything, the audio analysis reveals before we try the Bill Iredale plan?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I’d like to suggest that we proceed immediately, not least because we’ve effectively got a potentially separate investigation with respect to possible police corruption, and a hugely sensitive one at that.’

  ‘I agree, Andy. Are you surprised?’

  Hall didn’t look surprised. But she doubted if he would offer any visible response unless she kicked his bad knee.

  ‘That we agree? Of course not, ma’am.’

  Gorham smiled.

  ‘All right. And one more thing, before you go. I’m going to have my driver take you home now, Andy. And I don’t want to see you back at Kendal nick, or any other police premises, until you’re signed off by the medical officer. Is that quite clear?’

  ‘But I can keep working on the case?’

  ‘Could I stop you?’

  Hall left the question hanging, and started to get up. To his surprise Val Gorham came round and helped him up.

  DC Keith Iredale kicked out at the new pile of rubbish on the foreshore and swore. It didn’t make him feel any better. And to make matters worse it was in exactly the same place as the first of the recent deposits, right by the beach car park and the start of the Coast-to-Cost cycle way. Deja vu, all bloody over again.

  Even as he’d parked the car he could see that this load was larger than the first one, but the contents looked depressingly familiar. There were parts of a fitted kitchen, including the kitchen sink, plus a bathroom and what looked like half a ton of topsoil as well. Iredale called the council, reported the location and type of material, and then picked over the stuff that was lying on top. As usual there was nothing to suggest where the material had come from.

  He was just about to give it up when he noticed a section of plastic wrapping, and he reached down for it so that he could keep it from blowing away before the council clean-up team arrived. There was a bar code, and a product name on it. Iredale was sure that it was from the DIY superstore on the far side of town, so he picked it up by the corner, and walked back to the car with the plastic flapping in the breeze like a broken kite. He found a large evidence bag in the boot, and put the plastic inside. He started the car, then looked down at the G-Shock that his dad had given him when he joined the force. If he was quick he wouldn’t even be missed.

  The old man on the customer service desk couldn’t have been more helpful, and it didn’t take Iredale long to persuade him that he really didn’t need management’s permission to tell him who’d bought that particular type of kitchen unit recently.

  ‘It’s just a filler cabinet, is this one’ the old man said, ‘so I doubt we’ll have sold many.’ He tapped the product number into the computer, very slowly, and Iredale was tempted to suggest that he did it instead. ‘I was right, look, we’ve just sold one of those in the last six months. Customer’s name is Mike Gambles. Trade account, it is. Sorry, but I don’t have the address on here.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I don’t need that. Could I just have a print out please?’

  Iredale ran back to the car, intending to go straight to his sister’s place, find out where Mike was, and nick him there and then. But before he’d even reached the exit of the huge and almost empty car park he knew that he shouldn’t do that. He couldn’t see how Mike could be directly connected to the Chris Brown investigation, but fly-tipping definitely was. So he’d need to tell Ian or Jane, and let them decide what to do next. And it wasn’t as if Mike was likely to be going anywhere.

  Ian Mann was waiting for him when he walked into the office, carrying the evidence bag and the print-out.

  ‘I think I’ve identified our fly-tipper.’

  ‘Is it connected to Hayton?’

  ‘No. Don’t think so. It looks like it’s my brother-in-law, Mike Gambles.’

  ‘Really? I thought you said he was only tipping from the back of a Transit?’

  ‘Aye, that’s right.’

  ‘So what size was this load?’

  ‘A big ‘un. I don’t know, maybe he did a few trips, like.’

  ‘Possible, I suppose. And you’re sure it’s him?’

  Iredale thought before he replied.

  ‘Well I’m sure that something that he’s handled is in the load I just saw, aye.’

  Mann smiled. ‘You’re learning, lad. Andy Hall would be proud of you, giving an answer like that. No assumptions, that’s the way. So we’re saying that the Haytons look like they might be in the clear for the fly-tipping, after all?’

  ‘Aye. Do you want me to go and nick Mike?’

  Mann smiled. ’Wouldn’t you rather someone else did it?’

  ‘Christ, no. He’s a bloody chancer and he always has been. It runs in the family, my dad reckons. He spent most of his career trying to pinch Mike’s dad for something.’

  ‘Did he ever manage it?’

  ‘No, worse luck. He got close a couple of times, mind. Anyway, shall I go and nick Mike?’

  ‘No, he’ll keep. Let’s go and talk to Debbie Hayton again.’

  ‘But I just said, they’re in the clear for the fly-tipping. I think so, anyway.’

  ‘Aye, you think. And there’s the car too, remember. It really could have been in one of their sheds, couldn’t it?’

  ‘It could have been in any one of a million other places too, Ian. And I’d have thought you’d want her eliminated from our enquiry, so you can have your wicked way with her.’

  Iredale grinned, and Mann glared back. A week before that would have wiped the smile off Iredale’s face, but now he knew for certain that Mann could see the funny side. He just wasn’t about to let it show, that was all.

  As Mann drove he brought Iredale up to date on the interviews with Lee Bell and George Hayton.

  ‘I’m not surprised that the DCI didn’t get anywhere with Bell’ said Iredale. ‘But do you think the boss really believes that Hayton wanted to make sure that we knew that Bell is connected to the death of Chris Brown, and the conspiracy?’

  ‘Probably, aye. I don’t know how he does it, because Andy Hall is so middle class that he was probably delivered to the maternity ward in a John Lewis carrier bag, but he just has this knack of second-guessing offenders’ motivations and actions. I always tell him that he would have made a great criminal, even though he definitely bloody wouldn’t.’

 
‘How do you mean?’

  ‘He can think like one, I’ll give him that. But he could never act like one. Now me, I definitely could. If I had to, like.’

  Iredale wasn’t sure if he was supposed to disagree or not, and decided against it. He actually thought that Mann would make a truly scary con, so he changed the subject.

  ‘You reckon that the boss is right about that video tape as well then, Ian? There’s something on it that we’ve not spotted?’

  ‘Aye, I do. I was in that room with George Hayton, remember. I don’t know what it is, or even if we’ll find it, but Hopalong Cassidy is convinced, and that’s enough for me. Like I say, when Andy gets really excited about something like that he’s usually right.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. I could really do with being part of the team that gets a result here.’

  Mann glanced across at him.

  ‘You’re worried about Smith and Hodgson? About going back to work for them, after this is over, like?’

  ‘Aye, a bit. They used to take the piss and give me the shit jobs, I’ll grant you. Now they hardly even talk to me. I think I preferred it the way it was before. Do you think I should talk to them about it soon? Clear the air, like.’

  ‘No. No. Just let it lie. Take my advice and keep your distance, all right?’

  Debbie Hayton was waiting for them in her office.

  ‘Do you always travel in pairs?’ she asked Mann, pointing towards seats at her meeting table.

  ‘He’s my minder’ said Mann, straight-faced, and she smiled.

  ‘I very much doubt that. Now, what is it this time? Something about a stolen car, wasn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right’ said Mann. ‘A dark blue Renault Laguna. We’re trying to trace its whereabouts between last Tuesday and when it was found, burnt out, on Saturday morning.’

  ‘And you think it was here?’

  ‘Was it?’

  ‘Of course not. Does someone say it was?’

  ‘It’s a line of enquiry, that’s all. Tell me this though. If someone wanted to hide a car here, somewhere that you wouldn’t see it, is there somewhere suitable?’

  Debbie took her time. She seemed to be weighing something up.

  ‘Look, I still think that you’re just picking on us because of who my father is. But, like I told you before, he’s just a director of the company. I run the business day-to-day. But there is somewhere, I suppose. We’ve got an old shed that’s due to be demolished because it’s structurally unsound. No-one goes in there, for obvious reasons. So if I wanted to hide something on site, it’s where I’d put it.’

  ‘Can we take a look?’ asked Mann.

  ‘At your own risk?’

  ‘Absolutely. You don’t have to come in.’

  ‘I won’t. Follow me then. You are quite the daredevil, Sergeant Mann.’

  It was a sunny morning, and the diesel fumes in the yard smelt sickly warm and sweet. The old shed was right in the far corner of the yard, and Mann realised that he hadn’t even noticed it before.

  ‘It might take me a minute to work out which keys I need’ said Debbie. But at the second attempt the lock turned, and Mann and Iredale each slid a steel door back along its runners. It was dark inside, and the air smelt of battery acid and old engine oil. Mann and Iredale walked around slowly, both looking at the floor. It was surprisingly clean. Mann glanced over at Iredale, who shook his head.

  ‘OK, thanks’ said Mann, when they rejoined Debbie Hayton outside the building. ‘Sorry to have wasted your time.’

  Debbie smiled.

  ‘As a matter of fact there was something I wanted to mention to you. It’s about that fly-tipping.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that’ said Mann, smiling. ‘DC Sherlock here has got that one sorted by the looks of it.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Come on, Keith. We’d better get back.’

  They turned back towards the office.

  ‘What was it?’ said Iredale to Debbie, when they’d almost reached the car. ‘What was it that you wanted to say about the fly-tipping?’ He didn’t look at Mann.

  ‘I’m sure it was nothing. Especially now you’ve caught the person who was doing that dumping.’

  ‘No one has been arrested, let alone convicted’ said Iredale. ‘So I’d like to hear it, anyway.’

  Debbie looked at Mann, who nodded.

  ‘It’s just that when I came in this morning I went in to the shed where we keep the historic collection. I’ve been doing that, this past day or two. Early, like, before the lads are in. And I thought that the tipper was in a different position than last night, that’s all.’

  ‘Did you check the log?’

  ‘I did, as it happens. The mileage tied up exactly with the odometer reading. You can check, if you like.’

  ‘That would be great’ said Iredale, before Mann could reply. ‘There’s just something I’d like to look at.’

  Debbie led them back across the yard, and unlocked the historic vehicle collection. The tipper was in the front row of vehicles, neatly parked alongside an old single-decker bus.

  ‘The keys should be in it’ Debbie said, as Iredale climbed into the cab.

  ‘It’s OK, I just want to check something.’ Mann and Debbie watched him as he lay across the driver’s seat, keeping the door open with his feet. They both smiled at the sight. ‘Aye, the speedo’s disconnected. Ian, do you want to take a look?’

  ‘No, you’re all right.’

  ‘Let me look’ said Debbie, climbing nimbly up on the tyre and into the cab. ‘That’s not supposed to be like that.’

  ‘So it is disconnected?’ said Mann.

  ‘Yes, definitely.’ She climbed back down, and for the first time since they’d met Mann sensed that she was uncertain, maybe even frightened. And he was pleased about that, in a way.

  ‘I don’t understand that at all’ she said. ‘Honestly, that should never happen. Shall I get Jim, the maintenance fitter? Maybe he knows why it’s like this.’

  ‘Aye, that would be helpful’ said Mann.

  Quarter of an hour later Mann and Iredale were on their way back to Workington. Mann turned on the radio, and started whistling along. He was a terrible, but enthusiastic, whistler.

  ‘Well done, Keith’ he said, when his lips were dry. ‘That was bloody good work back there. And best of all Debbie is happy to provide a statement, saying that the truck was moved. I didn’t even have to push her, did I?’

  ‘No, marrer, you didn’t. She’s as pure as the driven snow, and isn’t that what you’re so made up about?’

  Mann smiled. ‘Of course not. I’m just pleased to have made progress. That we’ve made progress, I mean.’

  ‘But aren’t you forgetting something? I’ve already linked the fly-tipping to Mike Gambles. So how come it’s down to Hayton’s boys now?’

  ‘I dunno, Keith. Above my pay grade, that kind of thinking. Maybe your brother-in-law is in with Hayton.’

  ‘No way. Jack Moffett I could believe, just about, but not Hayton.’

  ‘All right then, so how about this? What if Gambles had stuff to dump, saw that Hayton’s truck had already dumped a load, so thought he’d just add to it?’

  ‘No, that doesn’t work either. The wrapper I found was under loads of stuff. I don’t think it was dumped on top.’

  ‘Are you certain though?’

  ‘No, not absolutely.’

  ‘Well it’s still a possibility then. Like Andy says, never close your options down too quickly. Tell you what, why don’t I give him a ring, and hear what he’s got to say?’

  Iredale listened to Mann’s half of the conversation, as he explained about the two conflicting pieces of evidence.

  ‘So you think that there could be another load out there somewhere then? Aye, OK, I’ll get all the recent sites checked. But what if there is only one load?’ There was a pause while Hall asked something. ‘No, sorry, but Keith says that won’t fly. This Mike Gambles character is an associate of Moffett, not Ha
yton, and a distant one at that.’ Mann went quiet again and then he turned to Iredale. ‘Aye, Andy, that is an idea. A devious one, like, but I’ll run it past young Keith and see if he thinks the locals cons are up to that level of misdirection. Meanwhile you want us to bring in Gambles? OK, aye, we’ll pick him up now.’

  ‘What did he say?’ asked Iredale, when Mann had rung off.

  ‘He said well done, Keith, that’s what he said. And Andy did have another idea that he wanted me to run by you, like. He wondered if you thought that George Hayton was bright enough to get a bit of identifiable material from someone who he knew had fly-tipped in the past and stick that in the load, just to throw us off the scent like.’

  ‘The stink, more like. But I suppose it’s possible, aye. After all, the boss thinks that Hayton deliberately put his boy Bell in the frame, and if that’s true he’s a good bit cleverer than he looks.’ Iredale was silent for a moment. ‘No, Ian, scratch that. Mike’s our man, got to be. I know him, see, and this is just his bloody speed. I know that times are tough and all that, and he’s got my sister and the kids to think about, but he’s never been above this sort of shit. Pound to a penny he’s our man.’

  ‘All right. Let’s go and pick him up. And make the poor bloody duty inspector’s day, Keith. Get one of his people off the clock for an hour or two while they drive round all the fly-tipping sites in the area. I assume you know where they all are? What with it being your particular area of interest, and everything.’

  Iredale smiled. ‘If there was a Mastermind for bobbies it would my specialist subject. That or the great fell runners, like.’

  Jane Francis was driving back to Workington too. She’d been on the phone to Andy for most of the journey. He sounded upbeat.

  ‘We’re moving again, Jane. I can feel it.’

  ‘Thanks to you.’

  ‘Rubbish, and you know it. This is a team game. Always has been, always will be. It’s our main advantage over the other side, because in the end they’re all just looking out for themselves, aren’t they?’