by Salkeld, J J
‘Let us get on our way and then I’ve got five minutes, love. Now what can I do for you in that time?’
Jane ignored the question and waited until the ferry was underway again. ‘Were you on duty on the morning of Saturday the first? The day that a young woman was assaulted after leaving the ferry?’
‘Don’t look at me love. I never left this old pile of scrap.’
‘So you were on duty?’
‘Aye, I was. But my mate wasn’t. It was Gerry Reilly that day, but he’s on holiday now, the lucky bastard. And would you believe it, he’s only gone on a bloody cruise.’ The man laughed, and Jane smiled.
‘Did you notice the girl who was attacked? This girl.’ Jane pulled a picture from her map pocket.
‘Can’t say I noticed. We do get some proper belters on here, mind, especially when the weather’s good.’
‘What do you do when the ferry is on the crossing?’
‘It’s not the bloody Channel, love. So I have a sit down, maybe send a text, sup a brew, chat to my mate, that sort of thing. It’s bloody non-stop the rest of the time, and it’s like a bloody Grand Prix when we get to the other side, you just watch.’
‘So you didn’t notice anything unusual during the crossing that this young woman was on?’
‘No, and I told the uniformed copper who came out all this. You could have saved yourself a soaking, like.’
‘I’ve read what you said, thanks.’ She sounded tetchy, even to herself. And Jane could see the western shore much more clearly now. ‘I want to ask your opinion on something.’
‘OK. Fire away, love.’
‘Do you think it would be possible for someone to leave one vehicle, and slip into the back of another without anyone else seeing?’
‘Busy crossing or quiet?’
‘Busy. When you’re full of cars, and with quite a few foot passengers too.’
‘What about the weather? People are much more likely to get out when it’s fair, like.’
‘Middling weather. Better than this, anyway.’
‘So a busy crossing, on a decent day. Then I’d say it depends. On this side, where the foot passengers and the crew are, I’d say no. But on the other side, then yes, I suppose it would be possible. But now I come to think about it, if you timed it so that you were getting into the car at about the same times as other people were going back to their cars then you might get away with it, even over on this side of the deck. Watch, they’ll all be going back in a minute.’
Sure enough, as the Ferry approached the shore the few drivers and passengers who had bothered to get out returned quickly to their cars.
‘Yes, I see what you mean. And do people usually lock their cars when they get out?’
The man laughed. ‘Of course not, love. I don’t think a car thief would get very far from here, do you?’
Jane watched as the cars drove off, and then as half a dozen rolled on for the short trip back across the lake. Then Jane had an idea.
‘Would you mind if I tried a little experiment on the crossing back?’ she asked the crewman.
‘I love a bit of experimentation, me. What have you got in mind?’
‘I’m going to see if I can get into one of the cars without anyone noticing.’
The man laughed. ‘Go on then. Just make sure you don’t fall in, OK? And am I allowed to watch?’
‘No. Go and chat to your mate or something. Just like it’s a normal crossing.’
The man nodded, and moved off. They were already a hundred metres from shore. Jane looked round at the few cars on the ferry. There was an MPV on the far side of the deck, so she decided to try that. She noticed that, despite the weather, everyone seemed to be out of the cars, so she thought it might be possible.
In fact it was easy. She walked across the deck, between the cars, opened the rear passenger door and climbed in. She waited for thirty seconds to make sure that she hadn’t been spotted, then got out again.
‘Thanks’ she said to the crewman, when they’d docked on the eastern shore.
‘Did you enjoy that?’
‘Yes, I did, thanks. It was very useful.’
Jane drove straight home afterwards, had a shower, and started to make supper. Andy had texted to say that he’d be home by six, and as usual there were no added endearments, beyond a solitary ‘x’. She didn’t expect any more, but it didn’t bother her now. Not all that much, anyway.
And it was certainly the case that Andy Hall wasn’t thinking about her. But then he was thinking about nothing except the Morrow case. That’s what made work feel like life itself, and it was, Hall knew, the only thing that really allowed him to live in the moment. To immerse himself fully in the here and now, rather than the infinite possibilities presented by imagined futures. And he was feeling confident that progress would come, and soon. Because one of the things that Hall knew to be true, the nearest thing that he could think of to a law of nature in policing, was that investigative effort in a case led to progress as an output.
But when he’d reached Appleby Police Station Ian had given him the bad news. Mann had been back to base with Dixon, then come back to Appleby help the back-shift for another hour or two. Hall appreciated it, and told Mann so. But the fact remained that not a single person had said that they’d ever seen Morrow before, let alone the previous year, and as Hall had driven in to Appleby he’d been surprised how many vans and caravans he saw heading out of town. He couldn’t exactly put up road blocks, but they were all potential witnesses.
‘The circus is leaving town’ Mann had said when Hall had mentioned it. ‘Bloody softies. It’s the bad weather. So, contrary to popular belief, it seems that most of them do have homes to go to after all.’
‘Bugger’ said Hall. ‘I’m not surprised, not really, but I had hoped we’d get something today.’
Mann shrugged. ‘So what now?’
‘Let’s try Tommy Faa one more time before he ups sticks too. If he’s still here now, that is. Knowing my luck he’s already hitched up his wagon and buggered off.’
‘You want me to check? We’ve got lads up there now.’
Mann asked one of the uniformed officers who was hanging about and counting his overtime to radio up to Fair Hill, and a minute or two later they had confirmation that Faa’s caravan was still in place.
‘It looks like the Somme up there now apparently, so one of the lads is going to take us up in a Land Rover. They’ll be five minutes.’
The two men did what policemen habitually do in such situations. They found the station kitchen and made themselves a cup of tea.
‘So what are you going to get the team on with tomorrow?’
‘Everything’ said Hall. ‘Try to find someone who saw Morrow here last year. But given that the place is emptying so fast now we need to be sensible, and prepare for the worst. So one thing I do want to make a start on tomorrow, and you’re not going to like this Ian, is that I want us to analyse any film footage plus any still photographs that we can find of last year’s Fair. So that means on social media, everything. Let’s see if we can maybe find Cliff Morrow that way.’
Mann groaned. ‘We’ll be looking for a needle in a bloody haystack, boss. The place has been bloody crawling with film crews and punter taking stills, even in this weather. So there must be masses of stuff from last year clogging up the interweb, and I’ll lay you a pound to a penny that most of them are of kids washing their horses in the river. And I very much doubt that Cliff Morrow ever did that.’
‘I know, mate, I know. It’s a long shot all right. But I’m running out of viable options here. Tommy Faa made some cryptic remark about having some more information for us when I spoke to him on the phone, but he wasn’t very specific. He’s granted us an audience though, so I suppose that’s something. But the background checks on Morrow have thrown up sod all so far, and it’s been made clear to me by God herself that we’re not to go trampling around on delicate minority community toes unless we’ve got a very good reason. And yo
u know what means?’
Mann rolled his eyes. ‘So they can get away with bloody murder then, Andy. Is that how it is now?’
‘Of course not, that’s not what she’s saying at all, and you know it, Ian. So don’t be bloody obtuse.’
‘But I’m Church of England, boss.’
‘Please don’t tell me that you’re taking over the terrible joke telling baton from Ray Dixon. I think I’d have to put my papers in if you have. No, what the Super is saying is....’
Someone called Mann’s name from the open office, and the two men poured their half drunk teas down the spoon-choked sink. They both knew perfectly well what Val Gorham had meant.
As they drove across the Fair hill Hall saw for himself what Mann had meant. It looked as if half the caravans had already gone, and plenty of people were hitching up in the rain. It looked like a miserable job.
‘One of the lads said that all that will be left here tomorrow is mud and crap, of all sorts’ said Mann. ‘So much for being one with nature.’
‘I expect pop festivals are worse’ said Hall.
The Land Rover stopped close to Faa’s caravan, and Hall noticed the four men leaning against the far end of the caravan and trying to stay out of the rain. Hall nodded at them, and wondered why precisely they were there, but none of them acknowledged him. And Mann looked at them as if he was trying to fix their faces in his mind.
One of the men went in to the caravan ahead of them, and a minute or so later he opened the door and beckoned them inside, pointing to their shoes as he did so. Hall and Mann both took their shoes off, and padded down the caravan.
It looked as if Tommy Faa had never set foot outside the caravan in the clothes he was wearing. The leather soles on his shoes looked unmarked, and his creased black trousers looked clothes-hangar fresh.
‘When I called earlier you said that you had some information for us’ said Hall, when they’d sat down and refused Faa’s offer of a drink.
‘That’s right. I’ve asked around for you, and I’ve managed to find out a bit more about Cliff Morrow, or at least this money he had. Is that of interest?’
‘Certainly.’ Hall smiled, and waited.
‘Well, the way I hear it is this. Two years ago, at the start of the Fair here, Morrow was broke. He had some gambling debts, and he nearly didn’t come, because he was worried that someone might be a bit over-zealous when it came to debt collection. It happens, though of course I don’t condone it. Anyway, he did come, and the word is that is that not only did he pay off his debts before the Fair finished, but that he went home in pretty high spirits. And he was talking about a big pay-day too. Apparently he mentioned a figure of ten grand.’
‘Could he have been lucky with another bet or two?’
‘No, definitely not. I checked that for you myself. He didn’t have a single bet on either of the trotting meetings, which I’d say is odd in itself.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Well, he liked a flutter, did Cliff, and he always had a few quid on the trotting, not only here but other places too. He wasn’t very good at it though, which is why he ended up owing money, I expect. But I hear that he wasn’t even at the trotting two years ago, nor last year either come to that.’
‘That’s really useful to know. The first meeting is on the Saturday of the Fair, is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Anything else that you’ve discovered?’
‘No, that’s it, I’m afraid. But I thought you’d want to know.’
‘Oh we do, and thanks again for going to all that trouble.’
‘It was no trouble.’
‘So do we have names for these witnesses? You do know that we’ll have to take formal statements from them?’
‘I do indeed. They’re waiting outside for you. But would you mind taking them down to the Police Station for them to give you their statements? My carpets would never recover otherwise.’
Tuesday, 11th June
Ray Dixon was driving to work when his phone rang. He didn’t have a hands-free, but he answered it anyway.
‘You the copper who was handing out cards up the Fair?’
‘Aye. And you are?’
‘Never mind that. Cliff Morrow, the bloke you wanted to know about. It was the gyppos who done him. Ripped them off he did, one of the bookies. Nicked ten grand, cash. That’s what got him killed, like.’
‘How do you know?’
The line went dead. Dixon pulled in at the side of the road and wrote down exactly what the man had said. He didn’t drive away again until he was sure he had it right.
DCI Hall called a team meeting as soon as Ray Dixon arrived at the incident room in Penrith. ‘Listen up, everyone. It’ll be an hour or two before we get any information about where the call to Ray originated from, so let’s see where that takes us. And we might get lucky and be able to trace the caller via the SIM, but don’t get your hopes up. Ray, you thought the caller had a local accent, is that right?’
‘Aye, Cumbrian I’d say. The east of the county most probably, not Carlisle or out west.’
‘Anything else? Did the man sound tense, relaxed, what?’
‘Not tense, but he was in no hurry to stay on the line.’
‘And the voice wasn’t disguised?’
‘No.’
‘Shame you couldn’t record it.’
‘My phone doesn’t do that, boss.’
‘Yes it does, Ray’ said Jane. ‘You just don’t know how it works, that’s all.’
‘Not to worry’ said Hall. ‘Ray did well to get the call down verbatim like that. So the question is this, how seriously do we take this call? There’s nothing in it that wasn’t in the public domain, except for the fact that Morrow had this money, this ten thousand pounds. The only immediate thought I’d like to express is that I think either our caller or the Traveller community is trying to sell us a dummy here. Because if the caller is right, and the Travellers killed Morrow because he stole from them, then he must have got the cash this time last year, not the one before.’
‘How so, boss?’ asked Ian Mann.
‘Because we know that Morrow had close contacts with the Traveller community throughout the latter stage of his life, and given that we know for certain that he was at Appleby Fair last year he can’t have been hiding from people he’d just ripped off, can he? That wouldn’t make any sense. And if he had ripped them off two years ago, which is when Faa’s witnesses say he had it, what possible reason could they have had to wait for a year before killing him?’
‘Maybe he stalled them somehow’ said Dixon. ‘Or maybe they gave him time to pay the money back.’
‘Your caller says he stole from this bookie, not that he had some kind of debt. And you know what a grim view the criminal underworld takes of people who steal from them. And they’re right, because fear is the only thing that keeps their people in line, isn’t it? No, if Morrow did steal that money then retribution would have been quick in coming, very quick indeed.’
‘So how seriously do we take this call?’ asked Mann.
‘It’s another line of enquiry, certainly’ said Hall. ‘But you all know how cautious we have to be about this kind of call. It’s just as possible that the caller is trying to confuse the investigation as he is trying to help us, probably more so I’d say. And since the timing of Morrow getting this money seems to be in doubt, and someone is definitely lying to us here, the question has to be why?’
‘Because the money is intimately connected to why he was killed?’ said Jane.
‘Exactly. I think that we should work on that assumption. We already were, in a way, but now I suggest we seek to establish that connection. Are we certain that he ever had this money, if so when did he get it, and what did he get it for? Answer those questions, and a good few more besides, and we just might find our way to a motive for his killing.’
‘And maybe we should ask one more specific question, too’ said Jane. ‘Was there any of the cash left when
Morrow died and, if so, what happened to it?’
‘Yes, Jane, thanks, that’s an excellent point. We know that Morrow barely used banks, and that he habitually dealt in cash, so it must be possible that he was holding cash at the time of his death. Is that what got him killed?’
‘I thought we’d discounted robbery’ said Ray Dixon. ‘That bloody great necklace was as good as cash.’
‘Not quite, Ray’ said Hall. ‘Our killer might have been more cautious than that. He might have been worrying about DNA on the necklace, or maybe he didn’t know what a generic design it actually was. And if he didn’t have existing contacts in the metals trade then maybe that made him nervous, too.’
Dixon nodded his agreement.
‘I’m not sure I agree with you about this call, boss’ said Ian Mann. A couple of the team, who’d been attached to the enquiry from the start but who hadn’t worked with Hall before, tensed up visibly. There were plenty of DCIs who you wouldn’t say that to behind closed doors, let alone in a team meeting.
‘Go on’ said Hall, his tone and expression as calm and neutral as always. ‘What are you thinking, Ian?’
‘Just that we know that Tommy Faa has a pretty tight grip on things among the Traveller community. Maybe one of them wants to speak out, but doesn’t dare do so publicly. Maybe Ray’s informant was a mate of Morrow’s or something. I don’t know, but I do think that we should take the circumstances into account here.’
‘Point taken, and thanks for that. And I’m certainly not suggesting that we discount Ray’s call, quite the reverse. Let’s build it into the investigation from here on in. All I’m saying is that we need to be cautious, that’s all. OK, so unless anyone else has any thoughts, let’s talk about how we move forward from here.’ Hall paused and looked round the room, but no-one piped up. ‘All right, so here’s how I suggest we play it. Job one is to do what we can to trace Ray’s informant, so Ray, you take care of that. Let’s aim to bottom that one out by the end of the day. But the main thing is to try to build the timeline for Morrow over his last few days, concentrating on the last day that we know he was alive, and really focus in on this cash too. Now, as you’ll know we got sod all from the great work that you all did at the Fair over the weekend, but I want to say a sincere thanks to everyone who turned out. It wasn’t for want of trying, I know that, and for what it’s worth the Traveller liaison officer has emailed me to say how sensitive everyone was in their dealings with the community. So well done. However, because we got nothing of value from the Fair visitors who we spoke to we’re going to have to go with the public appeal for information now.’ Hall waited for the collective groan, and when it came on cue he held up his hand. ‘I know, I know, we’re going to get inundated with calls from the good people of Cumbria telling us that they saw some suspicious looking people at Appleby Horse Fair and think they might have been gypsies, or that they lost their cat less than twenty miles away in 1979 and could Morrow’s death be connected? But you never know, so keep an open mind. Anyway, the picture of Morrow and a press release is going out this morning, and apparently there’ll be good local coverage on the TV tonight. So I’ll need four lines manned from 4pm onwards today. OK, Ian? Can you get that sorted?’ Mann nodded. ‘So that’s more or less half our strength committed for the next however long, and I need the rest of you, led by Jane and supported by the tech team, to get all the footage and still images that you can find from last year’s Horse Fair. It all needs to go through the facial recognition software, because we have to find Cliff Morrow.’
