Harper sat, his eyes on the man. ‘Len Tench. Ted Bradley.’
Morley waited a few seconds, expecting more. Finally he said, ‘Go on. What about them?’
‘They’re friends of yours, aren’t they?’
‘I know them.’ It was as much as he’d admit.
‘They’re both dead. Someone murdered them.’
They hadn’t released the names to the press. He watched Morley’s face for a reaction. Nothing. It was like staring at a block of stone. Finally the man blinked once and pursed his mouth again.
‘That’s …’ He sat back on the chair, head cocked to the side. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m certain,’ the inspector told him.
‘Why’s that? Why would anyone want to kill them?’ He didn’t look stunned or shocked by the news. The only expression was the incomprehension in his voice.
‘I was hoping you could tell me. After all, they’re friends of yours.’
‘I don’t know.’ He shook his head. ‘I really don’t know.’
‘I hope you can work it out, Mr Morley. Because I think there’s a good chance you’ll be next.’
Those words seemed to hit him. ‘Me?’ he asked disbelievingly. ‘Why?’
‘For the same reason your friends were killed.’
‘But …’ Morley took a breath. ‘Who killed them?’
‘We don’t know yet.’
‘How did they die?’
‘They were both hit with a metal bar that crushed their skulls.’ He nodded at the newspaper on the table. ‘Did you read about the body in the lake in Roundhay Park?’
The boxer nodded dumbly.
‘That was Tench. And then someone tried to get rid of Ted Bradley’s body in a fire. The brigade put it out.’
‘God.’ He’d turned pale. The man raised a hand to the barman for a drink and waited as he brought a glass of brandy. Morley downed it in a single gulp.
‘I think you’d better tell me what the three of you have been up to.’
‘Us? What makes you think we’ve done anything?’ His colour was returning and there was a strain of defiance in his voice.
‘They weren’t murdered for nothing, Mr Morley.’ Harper waited, sitting forward, elbows on his knees. Whatever Tench and Bradley had done, the boxer was part of it. He could feel it. ‘Look, I don’t care what it was. No charges.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Morley said flatly.
‘I want whoever killed them,’ Harper told him. ‘The rest isn’t important.’
The boxer lit a cigarette. He seemed in control of himself again, impassive, impervious.
‘Do you know how many fights I’ve had, Inspector?’
‘No.’ It didn’t matter and he didn’t care.
‘Sixteen. I won fourteen of them with knockouts, put Willie Morn down in three rounds. The two who stayed awake both threw in the towel.’ He recited his achievements with pride. ‘Do you really think I’d let anyone get close enough to kill me?’
Harper banged his fist down on the table, making the glass jump. ‘Don’t be so bloody stupid. An iron bar’s not like a fist.’ He paused long enough to let the words sink in, hearing the urgency in his own words. ‘It doesn’t matter how tough you are. You wouldn’t stand a chance. For God’s sake, all I’m trying to do is keep you alive and find whoever murdered your friends.’ The inspector exhaled slowly. ‘I need to know what Tench and Bradley were doing. You too, if you’re involved. And you’re going to tell me.’
‘What makes you think I’m involved?’ Morley asked, but the way his gaze shifted around gave him away.
‘You are. You knew them at the chemical plant. You were close. And no one makes a living as a boxer. Look at you. I can see the guilt in your eyes.’
The man slowly flexed his right hand, making it into a thick fist and saying nothing.
‘I need you to come down to Millgarth with me,’ Harper said.
‘What if I refuse? You think you can make me?’ His tone was lazy and mocking, the voice harsh as sandpaper.
This was it. From here it would either go easily or turn violent and bloody. The inspector kept his face empty, his tone straightforward and casual.
‘Me?’ Harper smiled. ‘No. I wouldn’t even try. But I can go outside and blow this.’ He drew the police whistle, on its chain, from his waistcoat pocket. ‘In three minutes there’ll be enough constables here to make you go. Believe me, if they took you down they wouldn’t have to buy their own drinks for a month.’
Still Morley didn’t move. He chewed his lip thoughtfully. ‘What do I get from it?’
‘If you’re very lucky, maybe you’ll stay alive.’
He came reluctantly, shambling along the street into town. He was a good four inches taller than the inspector, his shoulders far broader. He wore an old jacket, hands pushed into his trouser pockets, battered boots on his feet. People glanced cautiously as they passed.
Harper picked out the advertisements pasted over the gable ends of buildings as they passed – Nestlé’s Milk, Whitelock’s Ideal Pianos, Quaker Oats. A man shuffled by, hunched under a sandwich board with a sign for Crowther’s Good Tailoring.
No more mention of Tench or Bradley. Not until they reached the station. He wanted the boxer on his side, willing to trust him enough to talk.
‘You’ve won all your fights?’
‘Every single one,’ Morley told him flatly. ‘Taken a few punches, been knocked down once or twice. Queensberry rules. Gloves. But I’ve done some bare knuckle in my time.’ He brought out one of his hands and spread it wide. ‘You know how I toughen them?’
‘How?’
‘Soak them in piss.’ His short laugh was like a bark. ‘It works, too. I put vinegar on my face. It’s supposed to stop the skin cutting so easily.’
‘Does it help?’
‘Mostly.’ He shrugged.
‘Why do you do it? Box, I mean.’ Harper was genuinely curious.
‘I’m good at it,’ Morley answered simply. ‘And I like to win.’
The Headrow was crowded, but people seemed to part in front of them, as if they were fearful of coming too close.
‘You must get hurt, too.’
‘Of course.’ The man shrugged. ‘You expect that, it’s part of the game. But if they hurt me, I give them bloody hell in return, and they know it. Never been in anything as bad as Rothery and Asquith, though.’
Harper understood; everyone did, it had filled the papers for days. A bout at Temple Newsam. Rothery had died in the ring and his opponent had been found guilty of manslaughter.
Morley said it so matter-of-factly, as if it was obvious. That was chilling. And Harper began to wonder if the man could have killed his friends. An executioner, not another victim.
At Millgarth he sent a constable to fetch two cups of tea and settled Morley in an empty room, watching as he lit a cigarette and glanced around curiously.
‘I need to know what the three of you were doing,’ the inspector began.
‘Who says we were doing anything?’
‘You were.’ No doubt in his voice. ‘They weren’t murdered for the fun of it.’
A knock on the door and the nervous recruit brought the tea. The silence grew until it filled the space.
‘Do you know when I lost my first friend?’ The boxer rested his elbows on the table. ‘I was three. Three. Jem, his name was. We used to play together. I can still remember his face, clear as owt. One day he was there, next day he was poorly, the day after that he was dead. I’ve probably known as many who are in the ground as are still standing.’ He paused, just for a heartbeat. ‘Where did you grow up?’
‘The Leylands.’
Morley nodded. ‘And how bad did you think that was?’
‘I never really considered it.’
‘I was raised on Marsh Lane. We had an upstairs room. The walls were damp, we had rats. By the time I was six my younger brother and sister had both gone. I’ve had death all around me since the time I was born.’
‘Plenty of people have. What are you trying to say?’
‘We’re all going to die. You, me, every one of us.’ He shrugged.
‘Instead of stating the obvious, why don’t you tell me who’d want to kill Len and Ted? What were the three of you doing?’
Morley looked at him for a while, stubbed out his cigarette, pulled out the packet and lit another, watching the smoke rise.
‘Give me one reason why I should trust you.’
‘Because your friends are both dead and whoever did that is going to come after you, too.’
‘Then I’ll do for him first.’ Morley’s face was grim. ‘I told you, I can look after myself.’
‘You can try. I’ll come to your funeral,’ Harper said. ‘What flowers do you want?’
‘Why does it matter to you?’
‘This is my job. I’m good at it. And I like to win, too.’
The echo of his own words brought a thin smile to the boxer’s lips. ‘You want to know what we did?’
‘I’ve already told you that.’
‘And you won’t arrest me for it?’
‘You have my word.’
The boxer considered the promise for a moment, then, ‘It was threats and kidnap. For money.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You asked what we did.’ Morley shook his head in frustration. ‘I’m telling you.’
‘Who?’ He hadn’t heard of anyone being kidnapped; no one had reported anything.
‘It’s easy enough. You find someone with a little money. It doesn’t have to be a lot. It’s better if they don’t have too much, really. A businessman, someone who’s made a few bob but isn’t too sure of himself.’
‘Go on.’ He listened attentively, turning his head to catch every word.
‘It’s simple. We got them on their own and told them that if they didn’t give us money, bad things would happen to their family. If they told the rozzers, we’d know and they’d wish they’d never been born. Get someone scared enough and you walk away with a few quid.’
There was nothing new in the racket; it was as old as the hills. As long as there were strong men and weak ones it would carry on. But …
‘Who do you have on the force?’ Harper asked sharply.
‘No one.’ Morley threw his head back and laughed. ‘We wouldn’t even have known how to start. But say it to someone who’s already scared and it works like a bloody charm.’ He picked a shred of tobacco from his bottom lip.
‘You said kidnap.’
‘Aye. Just a few times, mind.’ Morley shrugged. ‘It was only if they didn’t want to hand over any money. We’d grab a child or the wife. That would really terrify them. They knew we meant business then. The usual warning: not a word to you lot or the next thing they’ll find is a corpse. It always worked. Always,’ he emphasized.
‘How often did you do it?’
‘The threats? Every couple of months. Fifty pounds can stretch, even split three ways.’
A few of those a year and they should be able to live like kings, not in lodgings.
‘And the kidnaps?’
‘Only three times. We’d take one of the children. Never hurt any of them, mind. But if it had to go that far, we charged them more.’
Another shrug, as if none of it mattered. Perhaps it didn’t; perhaps to him it was no more than another job.
‘Who were you working for?’
‘No one,’ Morley answered in surprise. ‘It was Len’s idea. Him and Ted would scout out the people, then the three of us would have a word with them. Decent little money spinner. They always paid up the next day. Never failed. Easy as you like.’ He wore a satisfied smile.
‘When was the last one?’
The boxer thought for a moment. ‘A month ago, I suppose. Give or take, anyway.’
‘Who was the victim?’
‘Some draper. I didn’t even know his name.’
He didn’t seem to care, either.
‘How could you do it if you didn’t know his name?’
‘Me? I’m only there as a frightener. You don’t need a name for that.’ He balled one of his hands into a large, scarred fist as an illustration. ‘You understand?’
‘Where was his shop?’
‘Oxford Place, by the Town Hall.’
Time for the big question. ‘Do you know George Archer?’ It took the man by surprise. For a second his eyes looked worried.
‘Why? What does he have to do with it?’
‘Do you know him?’
‘Course I do.’ Morley snorted. His expression was composed again. ‘He comes to all my fights. Likes to be seen there. He looks after a couple of fighters. I talked to him a few times.’
‘But he doesn’t look after you?’
The boxer shook his head. ‘He asked if I was interested but I told him no. I’m doing fine on my own.’ He gave a quick shrug. ‘He’s never made a fuss about it.’
‘You know his business, don’t you?’
‘Do I look like I was born yesterday? Everyone knows.’
Thoughts ran through Harper’s mind. ‘Does he know what the three of you did?’
Morley shook his head. ‘No.’ His voice was firm. ‘We all knew enough to keep quiet. Safer that way.’
‘I think you’d better tell me all about this draper,’ Harper said. ‘And the other kidnappings.’
The tale took an hour, but there was nothing in it that connected to Archer. Morley didn’t know the names of most of the victims, only the streets where they had their businesses. He didn’t seem to care. It was a job, nothing more or less.
‘Going to arrest me now, Inspector?’ A smile twitched across the man’s face as he finished. ‘You’ve already got my confession.’
‘I gave you my word. I’m interested in solving the killings. Nothing else. Whatever it is,’ he added darkly.
Morley nodded. ‘Then I’m free to go?’
‘You’d be safer here,’ Harper told him. ‘Your friends are both dead.’
He stood. ‘I’ll trust you more when I walk out of here.’
Harper hesitated. ‘I can’t protect you outside.’
‘You don’t need to. I told you, I can look after myself.’
‘No,’ the inspector insisted, ‘you can’t.’ He banged his hand down on the table. ‘I don’t give a monkey’s what you think, your fists won’t save you this time.’
The boxer spoke with slow deliberation, his rasp clear in the room. ‘I’ve got a fight coming up soon. Johnny McGowan from Bradford. It’s going to be a right scrap. I can’t train if I’m in a cell.’
‘And if you don’t stay here you might not be around to put on your gloves.’ He watched Morley’s face. There was no sense of fear or danger.
‘Then you’d better arrest me. If you don’t, I’m leaving.’
Harper held up his hands. ‘I’m not going to stop you. Just think first. Please.’
‘I already have. Good day, Inspector. I hope you find your murderer. For Len and Ted. They were good lads, they deserve that.’
SEVEN
He was still writing up the interview when Ash arrived.
‘I hear you found him, sir.’
‘For all it helped.’ He shook his head in frustration and explained. ‘Tomorrow we’ll start talking to the victims. Maybe one of them took revenge.’
‘Or knows someone,’ the sergeant suggested.
‘That’s possible.’ They’d assumed that the deaths were linked to Archer. More fool them. Now it seemed like he wasn’t involved. ‘Damn it.’ He looked up hopefully. ‘Did you find anything worthwhile?’
‘Perhaps we should have a word in the superintendent’s office, sir,’ Ash said quietly.
‘Tom. Sergeant.’ Kendall lowered his pen as they entered and closed the door and looked at their faces. ‘Well?’
Harper went through what he’d discovered.
‘You let him walk out?’ the superintendent asked in astonishment.
‘He thinks
he can take whatever happens.’
‘For God’s sake, you should have arrested him. You had enough.’
‘I’d given my word.’
‘And he confessed to a list of crimes,’ Kendall pointed out. ‘I’d have put him in the cells. At least he’d have been safe.’ He ran a hand through his pomaded hair. ‘What the hell were you thinking?’
‘I did what I thought was best.’ He held his head up.
‘And we still don’t have anything on Archer, do we?’
‘No.’
‘Do you believe Morley could have killed Tench and Bradley himself?’
‘It occurred to me,’ Harper admitted. ‘It’s easy enough to set a fire. But the business up at the lake? A cart, a weight for the body? I don’t see it. And he seemed genuinely shocked when I told him they were dead. It passed soon enough but it was real.’
After a moment Kendall nodded his agreement and turned to Ash. ‘What about you?’
‘I went looking for Morley at Dooley’s gym, sir,’ Ash began slowly. ‘I started talking to the chap who runs the place. He was telling me about someone who’s been around there a few times in the last couple of days. Not interested in learning to fight, just watching.’
‘Go on.’
‘From the description it sounds a lot like Dusty Watson.’
‘I thought he was doing four years,’ Harper said. ‘Is he out?’
‘I checked, sir. He was released a fortnight back,’ Ash continued. Watson was bad news. He’d been a thug since he was fourteen. He’d worked for half the gangs in Leeds, large and small, making sure people did what they were told and punishing them when they stepped out of line. His last conviction had been for grievous bodily harm. ‘I asked in a couple of the pubs.’ He paused, making sure he had their attention. ‘Watson’s been seen drinking with Charlie Gilmore.’
The room fell silent.
‘Are you certain?’ the superintendent asked finally.
‘The landlord recognized him, sir. Not a doubt about it.’
Gilmore led the Boys of Erin, an Irish gang based on the Bank. For years they’d had a feud with Archer and his men.
Kendall stayed quiet for a long time, pulling out his pipe, filling and lighting it, then puffing for a while.
‘Do either of you have any idea what’s going on here?’ he said.
The Iron Water Page 7
