Mann laughed. ‘Probably not. Only to me, I suppose. But I’ll tell you one thing. I’ve never been scared for my life, even when I should have been, like. I don’t know if that means owt or not.’ Mann laughed. ‘But Christ, how did we get on to all this morbid stuff, on a lovely day like this, and with the Sports to look forward to? Let’s have a toast to your lad.’
‘Aye, thanks. Cheers.’
‘Let’s hope he makes you proud.’
‘Don’t worry about that. I’m already proud. Let’s hope he wins it for himself. This may sound daft to you, but I’ve waited for this moment since he was just a little lad. I wrestled, my dad did, and his dad too, before him. Who know how far it goes back. And at least I’ve been a link in the chain. At least I’ve been that, like.’
The two men stood, in silence, for another minute or two, then Winder raised his almost empty glass and set off towards the far end of the show-field, where the exhibitors’ larger vehicles and caravans were parked. Mann finished his drink, and walked back to his car. He had a clear view of Winder’s 4x4 the whole time, and it was half an hour before he started to wonder where he’d got to. He should never have talked to the bloke, because if he hadn’t he could have kept proper eyes-on the whole time. ‘Shit’ he said, and got back out of the car. Twenty minutes later he knew for a fact what he’d known instinctively from the moment that the thought had first occurred to him. Winder had known who he was all along, that had to be it. He’d just been played like a farmed trout, hungry for the hook.
Mann asked a bloke who was unhitching a trailer if he’d seen John Winder.
‘Aye. He was here a while back. I saw him chatting with Brian Thompson, and they’ve pushed off to the pub.’
‘The Mortal Man?’
‘Aye, I expect so. They asked if I wanted to go, but I told them that I need to stay and graft for an hour.’
Mann drove to the pub, and found that Thompson and Winder had been and gone. Then he called Jane Francis and gave her the news.
‘For fuck’s sake, Ian. I thought that you could keep out of sight and track him for days, if needs be. Why did you bloody show out like that?’
‘I don’t know, honestly.’
‘And you’re certain that he spotted you?’
‘I was, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe he’s just going to pick up his car tomorrow. It’s not like it’s his only one, is it?’
‘All right. I’ll put someone on Winder’s house, and see if we can spot Thompson’s car. Meanwhile you’ll keep looking for them?’
‘Aye. The barmaid said that she had the impression that they were going on somewhere to eat. So that doesn’t narrow it down much, does it?’
‘It’s unlikely to be a chipper, given the amount of cash that Winder’s got.’
‘Maybe not, but my guess is that it will be somewhere that he has fond memories of, so I’ll start in Windermere, and take it from there.’
Andy Hall was doing everything he could to give Jane a relaxing evening. He even put on some music that she liked and he didn’t. And that didn’t happen often. But nothing worked. She hardly touched her food - one of her favourites - and she just said ‘sorry’ when he took the plates away. Five minutes later she was crying, and it was at least another ten before she stopped.
‘It’s my hormones, Andy’ she said. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Don’t be daft. It’s only natural. There’s so much to look forward to, isn’t there?’
‘You think so? I’ve fucked this case up completely. And we’ll all be depending on me, soon enough. What if I’m sacked?’
‘What are you talking about? They won’t sack you. Why would they?’
‘The Chief’s a vindictive bastard, Andy. We both know that. He’ll use me to get back at you. I’m sure of it.’
‘He won’t, but what if he did? We’d manage. Of course we would. One thing I’ve learned is that most of us worry too much about the future, and about money especially. I know that I have. It’s the curse of the middle-classes, always looking over your bloody shoulder. Well I’m sick of it. And things never turn out the way you plan, do they? People adapt, it’s a fact. We could adapt.’
‘Could you, Andy? In a while you’ll be a retired Superintendent with a bad back and a pension.’
‘Half a pension. But we’ll have a new baby, won’t we? We’ll be absolutely fine, I promise. But is that what you’re really worried about? Or is it actually the case?’
‘It’s everything. And I’m going to have to tell the bosses soon as well, aren’t I? About the baby, I mean. I hate it being a secret, because I want to shout about it, or at least send an email round, or something. And I should have done it already, because another week or two and it’ll be bloody obvious. There’s a rumour going round already. You do know that?’
Hall didn’t know. But Superintendents didn’t get told the gossip. It would be seen as a kind of grassing.
‘There’s always gossip, isn’t there? I wouldn’t take any notice.’
‘One of the civilians heard me throwing up in the loos at work apparently. Two days on the trot. The bloody woman must have bowels you could set your watch by.’
Hall smiled.
‘Now there’s an image to conjure with. But we’ve been through all this. You’re legally entitled to take the full maternity allowance, and they can’t penalise you for it.’
‘But they will, won’t they? And what if I need longer? I might, Andy. Your wife didn’t go back to work after the girls, did she? Not full-time, anyway.’
‘No, she didn’t. But let’s cross that bridge if and when we come to it, OK? After a few months at home with a new baby you might be climbing the walls. You might be dying to get back.’
‘I won’t be. I know I won’t be. How could I be? And even if I was I don’t think I’d be as good at the job. Not as committed, not as focussed. Because our child would always be my priority. I’m not like you, Andy. I can’t block home life out the moment I step through that door. It’s probably a bloke thing.’
‘Come on, Jane, don’t generalise. You’re always telling me off for that. Lazy sexism, isn’t it?’
‘It’s bloody true though. In your case, anyway. I remember what you were like, when your marriage was collapsing.’
‘Oh, yes? And how was I then?’
Jane could hear the slightest edge in his voice, but she ignored it.
‘Exactly the bloody same. No-one at work knew a fucking thing, did they? Not for weeks. You were going through hell, and you did it completely alone.’
‘Come on, Jane. That doesn’t mean anything. Those were different circumstances, a different time. I’d say I was a different person then, if I thought that there was the remotest chance that you’d actually believe me. And you’ll have me here, remember. I’ll be able to look after young Hamish, or Hannah.’
‘Or whatever he or she is called. I don’t think anything is set in stone yet.’
‘You know what I mean. So don’t worry about it, OK? I’ll be there. Or rather, I’ll be here. Right here.’
‘Will you? Are you sure about that? Christ, Andy, you’ve gone to work most days for over thirty years, and when you’re not there you’re usually thinking about it. I’m not sure that you can be anywhere else.’
‘We’ve been over this before, Jane. I know what I’m getting into, don’t I? Better than you do, as a matter of fact. Stay together, stay strong, and we’ll be fine. There’s nothing in this world stronger than a family, and that’s what we are now, isn’t it?’
John Winder was about to turn away from the door when Mrs. Moore finally opened it. It was just getting dark, the shadows filling up with the night.
‘Sorry, love, I was having a bit of a lie down.’
‘I’m sorry to have troubled you, Mrs. Moore. I was looking for your daughter, Tiffany.’
‘Oh, aye?’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not from the Police.’
‘Who are you from, then?’
; ‘Well not Jez Taylor, let’s just say that.’
‘He’s not a mate of yours?’
‘He certainly is not.’
‘An enemy then?’
‘How much do you owe him?’
‘I’m not sure. About £500, I think. Tiffany takes care of that. She’s a good girl.’
Winder reached for his breast pocket and the woman flinched.
‘Here’ he said, counting out ten fifty pound notes.
She held out her hand, so thin he thought that he could almost see right through it, then pulled it back at the last minute, as if the notes were marked.
‘You’d better come in. Tiffany won’t be long.’
They sat, uncomfortably, side by side on the sofa. After a few minutes Mrs. Moore seemed to drift off to sleep and Winder sat quite still, not wanting to wake her. It was another ten minutes before he heard Tiffany’s key in the lock.
‘Who the fuck are you?’
‘My name’s John Winder. I’ve come to talk to you about Jez Taylor.’
‘Jez who?’
‘I’m not from the Police, don’t worry. But I know about you and Jez. Look, is there somewhere we can talk?’
‘Here will be fine. You won’t wake mum. It’s the drugs, see.’
‘Prescription?’
‘Aye.’
Winder nodded.
‘I sympathise.’
Something in his tone struck Tiffany.
‘You too?’
‘Aye.’
‘How long?’
‘Three months, maybe a bit more.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be. Your mum seems peaceful enough.’
‘She is now. So what’s this about Jez Taylor?’
‘You owe him money.’
‘Aye. He says so, anyway.’
‘Is this enough?’ He spread the fifties out across his hand, then held them out.
‘No.’
‘But your mum said…’
‘I know. It’s more than we owe him, right enough, but it’s still not enough.’
‘He wants you to do another robbery? Anthony Williams, isn’t it?’
‘Aye. How the fuck did you know that?’
‘It doesn’t matter. When is it?’
‘Tomorrow. Can you stop it? Make Jez go away, I mean.’
Winder paused for a moment. ‘No. I don’t think I can do that. The cops are watching Taylor, and me too, come to that.’ He saw the look of fear on Tiffany’s face. ‘Not now, like. I lost them. Got the feeling they sort of wanted to be lost, actually.’
‘Why are they following you, mate?’ She was a bright kid, he could see that, and he watched the realisation dawn on her face, like the sun slipping out from behind clouds. ‘I know who you are now. That John Winder. Aye, Frankie used to talk about you. You were inside with him, and made all that money after.’
‘Aye, that’s right.’
She nodded her head.
‘Did you kill him then?’
‘Aye, I did.’
‘But you’re not going to kill Jez Taylor?’
‘No, I’m not going to do that. Would you kill him though, if you had the chance?’
‘I imagine him dead, sometimes. And I didn’t touch that old woman, if that’s what you want to know. She fell. It was an accident. I’m no killer.’
‘I believe you.’
‘Thousands wouldn’t.’
‘It’s the judge and jury that counts, lass.’
‘You think it’ll come to that?’
‘Don’t you?’
Tiffany looked across at her mum.
‘Aye, I dare say it will.’
They sat in silence for a few moments.
‘So why have you come, then? To give me that cash?’
‘Partly, aye. Will you take it? I’ve got plenty more, if you need it. More than I can spend in my lifetime, anyway.’
‘No, ta. Like I said, it’d make no difference. He’d only want more, if he thought I had a source of income, like.’
Winder nodded. She was a bright girl. And a good judge of character, or the lack of it.
‘So you go to college, is that right?’
Tiffany smiled. ‘Aye, I do. Waste of time if I do get nicked, like. I’ll never be an accountant. No-one would trust me.’
‘No one trusts accountants, love. How about criminology?’
This time she laughed, quietly. ‘Are you taking the piss?’
‘No, of course not. You deserve an education, and more than most, I’d say.’
‘I expect it’s a popular course in prison, is that.’
‘Not as popular as pharmacology.’
‘They don’t do that, do they?’
‘No, I’m kidding. When I was inside I did a course on the computer job, though. Very handy it was, too.’
‘What was it like? Being inside?’
‘You don’t want to know. What I did was my fault, no-one made me do any of it.’
‘Me too.’
‘You really think that?’
‘Aye, of course. People make too many excuses, don’t they? People from bad backgrounds come good in life, and the other way round. We’re not predestined, are we?’
‘If you mean that it’s not written in the stars then aye, you’re right. But then we could all do with a helping hand occasionally, couldn’t we?’
For the first time Tiffany looked guarded.
‘What did you have in mind? What do you want in return?’
‘No, nothing like that. I was just thinking. Having something to look forward to, through the dark times, that would always be a help.’
‘Aye. I suppose it would. So they’ll nick us both, you reckon?’
‘Aye, I do. So why not take this cash, and maybe a couple of grand more? I won’t miss it, I promise you. Leave it somewhere for your mum, OK? Give me your bank account details and I’ll make sure she gets a bit more, for as long as she needs it, like.’
‘Why would you do that for me? You don’t know me, so let me tell you. I’m nothing but a thief, and I rob helpless old folk. I’m not worth helping.’
Winder smiled. ‘You’re not bad, Tiffany. But you’re not good either, mind. None of us are. But Jez Taylor is a disease, and you’ve just been trying to help your mum get through it. And after this is all over you’ve still got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t you ever forget that, love.’
Thursday, 31st July
Keith Iredale left his phone off again, and hoped that no-one would call. He was supposed to be working his way through the list of re-interviews that Ian mann had given him the previous evening, and he felt bad that he wasn’t. Not because he thought he’d make any progress, but because he knew how it would play out. The boss would find out that he was behind with his work, and Ian would take the blame. He’d just say that it was all his fault. It was a reaction that was as instinctive for Mann as reaching for a glass if it fell. But that knowledge didn’t change anything. He was going to see this through. He hoped that Ian would understand; but if he didn’t then he didn’t. Some things - but not many - trumped even friendship.
He was parked outside the house on Kendal Green at half-seven, and he listened to the birdsong with the window cracked open an inch or two. The previous robberies had all been committed between nine and eleven am, and on days when Tiffany Moore didn’t have any lectures. But college had broken up for the summer now, so that was no guide this time. But he was convinced that she’d go for the morning again. And at just after nine he saw her, walking confidently towards the house. She knocked, and a few seconds later Iredale watched her go in. He gave it a minute or two, and then he followed her to the door.
The old man answered, and Iredale showed his Warrant Card. He heard rapid footsteps, and a door opening at the back of the house. He thanked the old man, asked him to lock his doors, front and back, and he strolled to the end of the back lane behind the houses. Tiffany ran right into his arms. She was wide-eyed with fear and surprise.
‘No.’
‘Come on, Tiffany. You’re nicked, obviously.’
They sat in Iredale’s car, both looking out at the green. Iredale watched the odd leaf fall, much too soon, from the tree opposite them.
‘You know how this goes from here, don’t you, Tiffany?’
‘You take a statement from that old bloke, and then you charge me with all the robberies.’
‘Aye, that’s it. And what would you say your chances are of getting off?’
‘Slim to nil?’
‘Nil to nil, more like. So I want to make you an offer. How about we wind the clock back twenty minutes, and instead of you knocking on Mr. Williams’ door this morning you knocked on mine instead?’
‘Eh? How do you mean, knocked on yours?’
‘We spoke on the phone, and then we meet. You confess to the robberies, and then I take you in. Right now, in fact.’
‘And that would be good for me, would it?’
‘Definitely. But one thing I have to ask, and this is just between you and me. I could never repeat whatever you say now in court, because I’ve got no corroboration. In fact, we’re not even having this conversation, are we? But tell me, what happened with Mrs. Pearson? Truly, what happened?’
‘She fell. I never touched her. I could see she was dead right away, her head was almost snapped off, and I almost ran into that other old woman in the street, so I knew she’d call an ambulance. But it was still all my fault, I do know that.’
‘Why? I thought you said you didn’t touch her?’
‘I didn’t. But if I hadn’t been there she’d never have fallen, would she?’
‘I see what you mean, but lucky for you the law doesn’t work like that. If it did we’d all be guilty of something, wouldn’t we? At worst you’re looking at aggravated burglary. That’s bad, I won’t pretend it’s not, but it could be much worse. And one other thing. You’ll need to tell us about Jez Taylor. Everything, I mean.’
‘I can’t.’
Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7) Page 24
