Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7)

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Mortal Men (The Lakeland Murders Book 7) Page 25

by J. J. Salkeld

‘Because of your mum?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I promise you that Jez Taylor will understand exactly what will happen to him if he ever tries anything on with you, or your mum.’

  ‘Why should he care? He’s going down anyway. And he could just put the word out, like. Pay someone to hurt mum, when he’s inside.’

  ‘This wouldn’t be an official warning, like. This would be man to man. You understand what I’m saying? Any harm comes to you or your mum, it comes back on him. No matter what, like.’

  ‘You’d do that for us?’

  ‘I want Jez Taylor, Tiffany. The man’s a maggot.’

  ‘But what about the old boy? I just gave him the usual story. Won’t he report what happened, when he sees the stuff in the papers about all this?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him, and explain the situation. He won’t report anything. So do we have a deal? I won’t lie to you, Tiffany. You’re going to jail, as sure as bloody eggs, but I’ll do all I can to help you. And don’t think it’s because I like you, or anything like that. You’ll just make a much more convincing witness against Taylor because of what you’ve just done, or rather because of what what you’re about to do. So what do you say?’

  ‘OK. But not because I like you, either.’

  Iredale grinned, and started the engine.

  But Ian Mann hadn’t tried to call Keith Iredale. He hadn’t thought about him for a single second that morning, in fact. But then he hadn’t had the chance. Because he’d met Andy Hall on the way in to the station, and people had turned round in the corridor when Hall had shouted, ‘that’s it.’ No-one in the place could remember the last time that Hall had so much as raised his voice. And now they were both in with Jane, all standing round her meeting table.

  ‘Why didn’t we know that Winder is so ill?’ asked Jane.

  ‘There’s nothing obvious in his appearance’ said Hall. ‘I certainly didn’t have any idea.’

  ‘Are we sure it’s true?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Hall, before Mann could reply. ‘It all makes sense, finally. Of course he knew who Ian was. It was as good as a confession.’

  ‘But why wait so long to do it? He could have told you days ago, couldn’t he?’

  ‘No, he was waiting for today. He wants to see his son at the Sports. He’s got it all worked out. He always has had.’

  ‘Well bugger that’ said Jane. ‘I don’t give a shit. Let’s get him picked up now. Armed response, the bloody lot.’

  ‘There’s no need, honestly. All we need to do is rock up at the Sports later on, and he’ll come quietly. I’m absolutely sure of it.’

  ‘Sorry, Andy, but we’re talking about a bloke who killed in cold blood, not Raffles the bloody amateur cracksman. I’m not having you just strolling up to him and asking him to do the gentlemanly thing. Not with thousands of fell runners and tourists and Christ knows who milling about. It’s far too risky.’

  ‘You’re right, Jane’ said Mann, and Hall glanced quickly across at him. ‘We need armed response on hand. But I think Andy’s right about one thing. He’s planned this all along, and he’s not the type for the grand gesture, is he? He’s proper northern, for Christ’s sake. I never saw my dad cry once, after me mum died, though it would have been better for everyone if he had.’

  ‘What is it with you blokes? You’re all emotional cripples, aren’t you? Look, I tell you what I’ll do. If we don’t pick him up between now and whatever time you reckon he’ll be at the Sports watching his lad compete then you can do it your way. But until then we do it the right way. The chopper, dog teams, the bloody lot.’

  ‘But we’ll pick him up in no time and that will be that’ said Hall.

  ‘Not if you’re right, Andy, and he’s planned this all along. Because if that is the case, and he knew full well that Ian was a cop, then he’ll know we’re looking for him now, won’t he? So he’ll have taken steps to keep out of our way. I don’t think he’s got a snowball’s chance of doing it, but maybe he does. He strikes me as the arrogant type, does John Winder.’

  Hall got up quickly. Jane was absolutely right, he could see that now. Not that it would take armed response and all their hardware to detain John Winder, because that was just bollocks. A tap on the shoulder would get the job done. But she was right about what Winder had done since the previous evening. Of course he’d have expected Ian to have reported what had been said and for a man-hunt to kick-off immediately. As to why Mann had waited over twelve hours before reporting the conversation; well, Hall had his suspicions about why that was. But he was suddenly absolutely certain that he knew exactly where John Winder was, right at that second, and he had no intention of telling Jane. Because if he was right the arrest would soon be made that afternoon at the Sports, with no fuss or risk to the public. It would still be Jane’s collar, Jane’s result. And Hall couldn’t be happier at the prospect.

  Jane was briefing the team when Keith Iredale walked in to the open office. He’d been wondering if anyone, and especially the DI, would believe his claim that Tiffany Moore had just walked in and confessed, and he didn’t have to think about it for long. There was absolutely no way that they would, not if they thought about it properly. But now he didn’t have to worry about that, because Jez Taylor was well and truly out of the frame for the Frankie Foster killing - which in turn meant that he was fair game when it came to other offences. The timing couldn’t have been better. He almost shouted ‘yes, boss’ when Jane gave him a couple of paper-pushing tasks to undertake in advance of the Winder arrest, and he made a bee-line for Mann as soon as the briefing was over.

  ‘Tiffany Moore’s being booked in downstairs. She’s confessed to the lot, and she’s grassed up Jez Taylor into the bargain.’

  ‘I bloody told you, didn’t I? You can’t jack the job in now, lad. That’s fantastic news, is that. Wait a minute, though. She just walked in and confessed, just like that?’

  ‘Aye, she did. Just couldn’t live with herself, she said.’

  Mann was grinning now. ‘Is that so, Keith? That’s how it happened? Well bugger me. That’s a bloody turn up, I must say. In all the years I’ve been in the job I could count on the finger of one finger the times a con has turned themselves in, just because of their conscience, like. And Tiffany would be that one. There was that time that Andy Hall confessed to nicking my last biscuit, but I already had him in the frame for that one, like.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I just followed the trail of crumbs.’

  Iredale smiled. ‘So are you going to come down while I take her statement and get her charged?’

  ‘Aye, if the boss OK’s it. With a bit of luck she’ll let us go and nick friend Taylor while the death or glory boys are looking for John Winder. Andy Hall reckons that they’ll never find him, but he said that about Lord Lucan, didn’t he?’

  ‘But they never found Lucan.’

  ‘Exactly. So Andy’s usually right. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not harbouring the bloke himself, just so he can be proved right. He’s bloody determined that it should be him who brings Winder in, anyway.’

  ‘So what kind of mood is she in then, the boss?’

  ‘Not too bad, considering. She’s so bloody relieved that we’ve finally caught a break that she’ll even forgive Andy going in to his full-on psychic routine. She should be used to that by now, mind.’

  By the time that Mann and Iredale were in the car, on their way to Taylor’s place, Mann was also in a good mood. He even let Iredale turn the radio on, although he turned the volume down and complained loudly about each tune in turn.

  ‘So what would you prefer to listen to then, Ian?’

  ‘Right now? A bit of Zepp. Kashmir, probably.’

  ‘Man’s music, is it?’

  ‘You won’t wind me up, Keith. Not today. It’s a beautiful day, and we’re being paid to go and fuck up Jez Taylor’s whole day, and a good few years to come too, I hope. It doesn’t get much be
tter than that, now does it?’

  And, much as he wanted to disagree, Iredale found that he couldn’t.

  ‘He’s your collar, lad’ said Mann, as they parked outside Taylor’s house. ‘You enjoy it. I’ll go round the back, in case he makes a run for it. And remember what I showed you, if he tries it on, like. Is he left or right handed?’

  ‘Right, I think.’

  ‘Thinking’s not good enough, Keith. But aye, he is. If he goes for you get him on the ground quick, OK? I bet he’s a kicker, not a puncher. But whatever happens I don’t want to find you with a broken nose on the deck, and then have to chase him down the bloody road myself.’

  ‘That won’t happen.’

  ‘All right. Let’s get this done. Give me thirty seconds to get round the back. It’s the best bit of the job, is this, so you enjoy it. Especially if he resists, like.’

  ‘He won’t.’

  But DC Iredale was still very much on his guard when he knocked at the door, and he dropped his Warrant Card, just as Mann had showed him, in the fraction of a second before Taylor lunged at him. After that, it went like clockwork. Iredale moved his weight back and to his left, tripped Taylor with his right foot and got him an arm lock as they both fell, with Iredale landing on top.

  ‘He bloody tripped me’ gasped Taylor, when Mann jogged in to view. ‘That’s not bloody fair. I’ll have you for that.’

  ‘I’m shitting myself’ said Iredale, grinning at Mann.

  ‘You could have made a bit more a fight of it’ Mann said to Taylor, when he was on his feet and cuffed, ‘but you’re just a big jessie, aren’t you? Couldn’t pull the skin off a rice pudding, you. Has he asked why you’ve nicked him, Keith?’

  ‘No, funny enough, he hasn’t.’

  ‘Great. I’m going to enjoy seeing the look on his face as it sinks in how long he’s looking at. Better than a pension, it’ll be.’

  ‘I’ve just been lending a bit of money. Helping the community, like.’

  ‘So you’re admitting to illegal money lending?’

  ‘Aye, I suppose so.’

  ‘Well that’s just the beginning. You’re looking at a bloody long list, son, from conspiracy all the way through to manslaughter. Oh aye, that old woman’s death is down to you. No doubt about it.’

  ‘I’ll kill that little bitch. She’ll never give evidence against me, you watch.’

  Iredale spun Taylor round, let go off the cuffs and pinned him against the closed door, his forearm hard on Taylor’s neck.

  ‘Now listen to me, you stupid sack of shit. If you go near that girl, or her mother, or anyone she so much as fucking says ‘hello’ to on the way to the shops, then I will kill you. Is that clear?’ Iredale pulled his forearm off Taylor’s windpipe, and he made a noise like a toilet flushing.

  ‘Did you hear that, officer?’ he croaked. ‘Your mate fucking threatened me.’

  ‘That wasn’t a threat, son. That was just a public information announcement, was that. No-one would fucking miss you anyway, would they?’

  ‘So you’re going to stand there and let him say that?’

  ‘No, I’m not. Because if it comes to it I’d be the one getting rid of the body, son. You’d be surprised how easy it is to do, if you know how, like. I could make you disappear completely in ten minutes flat. You wouldn’t be sleeping with the fishes, you’d be inside them. It only takes a day or two, if you do it right. But then we’re all only a bit of blood and bone in the end, aren’t we?’

  I’ve been thinking about why they all come, the tourists. When I was a lad there were walkers in groups, young men during the Wakes Weeks, all talking too loud. You could hear them from right up on the fells, when they were still on the valley path. Deafened by all that machinery, I expect. And cyclists too, I remember them. The coach parties didn’t make it far beyond the ice cream van, but at least they had a change of view and a change of air. Of course some of them got the taste for Benidorm later on, but I can’t see why. Their ice creams must have melted in a minute. Here they’d last for bloody ages, even on a day like this.

  Other than prison I’ve never been away from here. Not for more than a few days at a time. And I’ve never lived more than two miles from where I was born. Of course years ago I couldn’t afford to go anywhere else, but looking back I never had itchy feet. No imagination, maybe. I knew what was over the next fell, what the autumn trees looked like, and that was enough, really. And now my lads can stay here too, if they want. So maybe it was all for the best, in a way, what happened. Because I’d never have made all that straight money if I hadn’t gone inside first. And my kids couldn’t have stayed without the money to fight off the bloody off-comers when it came to buying a house. I nearly pissed myself laughing when I heard that London lawyer had been complaining in the pub about me out-bidding him for my son’s cottage. I’d like to have been able to do it for all of the kids he went to school with. Well, most of them, anyway.

  It’s been lovely up here this morning. Watching the sun come up like that. The last time for me, I dare say, but not the last time. It’ll keep happening, whether there’s anyone to see it or not. The rocks and the sky feel nowt, don’t mourn the past, don’t dream of the future. I’ll miss all this, but it won’t miss me. Not one raindrop, not one moss campion flower. That’s probably as it should be. It’s certainly as it is, anyway.

  I’m nervous today, obviously. Not for myself, but for my lad. But maybe he doesn’t want to win it as much as I need him to lift that trophy. I’ve not let on, like. Not about a lot of things. And I was probably the same when my dad watched me wrestle, all those years back. I don’t think I ever took it seriously, not really. And even if I’d known what it meant to him would I have tried any harder for that last throw? I’m not sure I would, really. Children can be bastards, sometimes. Still, I don’t want to put any pressure on him, not today. Not ever, if I can. Of course he’ll have to know, eventually. But it won’t take long to say good-bye, will it? I’m not sure that there’s anything I can tell him that he doesn’t already know, even though we never say much to each other. Actions speak louder than words, they say, and I for one hope that’s true. Anyway, I’ll just build up this cairn a bit, and then I’ll start heading down. I saw all those coppers down on the showfield last night, and I heard their dogs, but they were all much too far away to ever bother me.

  ‘So you were right, Andy’ said Mann, as they drove out of Kendal. ‘We haven’t had a sniff of Winder, even though Jane has had the cavalry out all night and this morning. Why didn’t you tell her that you thought he’d be up on the fells all night?’

  ‘Because it was just a guess, and because it’s not my case. And we still don’t know for certain that’s where he is, do we?’

  ‘No, I suppose not. So you reckon that he’ll just come down with the fell runners, is that it?’

  ‘It’s what I’d do, certainly. He’ll know that we wouldn’t want to try to snatch him when he’s in amongst all those people. They get thousands at the Sports, you know, competitors and spectators. And it’s a lovely day, so it’ll be a bumper crowd this year. Kids everywhere too, remember.’

  ‘So you think that Jane will stand by what you agreed? She’ll be in the control room at HQ now, chewing her finger nails to the bloody quick.’

  ‘She will. Of course she will.’

  ‘She would never have expected to have to though, Andy. You know that. If it was me, I’d be tempted to make the arrest at the first opportunity. You know how much it means to her, mate.’

  ‘I do. I know the pressure she’s been under. Not enough resources to get the job done, twice as many chiefs as indians, except nowadays the chiefs have access to email. Smoke signals would be more use, I can tell you.’

  Mann laughed. ‘But you’re a chief now, Andy.’

  ‘Not really. I’ve never quite worked out how they do it, really. They’re always busy, but they never do any actual policing. You could fire most of them, me included, and it would make no bloody diffe
rence on the ground. Not one iota, honestly.’

  ‘Except that Jane would have fewer emails to read, mate.’

  ‘True enough. But you make a good point, Ian. She bloody well should do what we agreed. She’s a DI and I’m a Detective Superintendent, aren’t I?’

  ‘So they tell me, aye.’

  Hall was right, and the Sports was busy. As they approached the showfield they could see that it was already packed with people, and they queued for a minute or two before they turned into the exhibitors’ entrance. Mann badged the steward, and asked where he should park.

  ‘Over there, by your vans. What’s going on, a bobbies’ day out is it?’

  ‘Something like that, aye.’

  Mann parked the car, radioed in that they’d arrived, and they sat and waited for the call that they both knew would come soon enough. It was less than thirty seconds before Jane was patched through from HQ.

  ‘He’s not on the showfield, Andy. Definitely not. We’ve got people all over, and he’s not there. You’d better be right about this. I’m beginning to think he’s done a proper runner.’

  ‘How long until the all-weights wrestling final?’

  ‘Twenty minutes or so. And before you ask, yes, his lad is in the final.’

  ‘Good. Then Winder will be along in a few minutes. Was that the fell runners we could see coming down the hill as we drove in?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. Christ, Andy, you think he’s in amongst them, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s a possibility.’

  ‘What? He kipped up on the fells last night? A man in his condition? That’s not very likely, is it?’

  ‘I doubt he’s concerned about that. Anyway, if I’m right he’ll be on his way down now. Can you tell the troops to stand off, and give us a bit of space to work in?’

  ‘All right, I will. It’ll be too late to snatch him now anyway. But if there’s the first sign that he’s going to make a run for it, then I’ll tell them not to hesitate. And you be careful, love. You don’t know that he’s not armed.’

 

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