Horton let him go.
‘Very tetchy,’ said Eames when they were heading back towards the security entrance.
‘He’s clearly under pressure.’ Horton nodded towards Harlow’s bad-tempered boss, Skelton, who was now having a go at his staff at one of his coffee stalls. Horton could see Dennings waiting for him by the car. Despatching Eames to buy some sandwiches and a couple of bottles of water, Horton made for him.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Dennings hissed.
‘It’s too long and too complicated to explain.’
‘Not if it has something to do with my operation.’
‘Don’t you mean the Border Agency’s operation?’
‘I’m not having you mess things up, Horton.’
Horton swiftly told him about the murder at Tipner Quay and that the dead woman had been seen at the crematorium the same time as Patricia and Gregory Harlow, who had been there for their aunt’s funeral. ‘What are your views on Gregory Harlow?’
‘Seems OK.’
‘When did he arrive here?’
‘No idea.’
‘He must have logged in.’
Dennings entered the temporary security office. Horton followed.
‘His van was checked in Wednesday morning at seven thirty-five.’
So Harlow must have been at home the night of his aunt’s funeral. That didn’t mean he stayed home. He could have gone out to meet Salacia. But would he have eaten lobster and had sex with her? There was no evidence to suggest that Salacia had any connection with Gregory and Patricia Harlow and no evidence to say Gregory Harlow could have killed her. The Harlows’ reaction to Salacia’s deaths weren’t what he would call normal but in this line of work he’d long since learnt that there was no ‘normal’.
Another blast of ear-deafening music filled the air. This time it didn’t seem to want to stop. By the time it did Horton could see Eames heading for the car. He made a point of politely thanking Dennings for his help adding, ‘Enjoy the festival.’
Horton climbed in. ‘Just checking Harlow’s movements,’ he explained, taking his sandwich from her. He wasn’t going to tell her who Dennings was. It didn’t concern her or their investigation.
‘I did the same with Gregory Harlow’s boss. He said he hoped we weren’t going to come around bothering them every five minutes. And he wasn’t too happy that Gregory Harlow had taken Tuesday afternoon off to attend his aunt’s funeral. Skelton expected him back Tuesday night; the senior staff sleep on site in a caravan during the festival, but Harlow called in to say he wouldn’t be back until Wednesday morning.’
So why did Harlow change his plans? Or perhaps he hadn’t intended to return on Tuesday night but had just told Skelton that to pacify him. On the other hand he could have been emotionally drained after the funeral and didn’t feel up to returning to work. Or perhaps Patricia Harlow was upset and her husband had stayed home that night to comfort her.
A prolonged blast of music followed them into the town of Newport. With feeling, Horton said, ‘I never thought I’d be glad to visit the relative peace and quiet of a prison.’
‘Then let’s hope there’s not a riot on, sir.’
NINE
Geoff Kirby, Head of Operations, rose from behind a modern desk in the small office and stretched out a large, strong hand. Horton hadn’t met him before. His first impressions were of authority and intelligence. He wondered what Kirby’s were of him. He hoped his claustrophobia didn’t show. He tried to shut out the sounds of the prison, which had followed him into Kirby’s office in the central administration block. There was no slamming of doors or rattling of keys here, they were all in Horton’s mind along with the smell of men and disinfectant that reminded him too much of his days spent in children’s homes.
Eames had been despatched to talk to the officers who had worked on Woodley’s wing, and to enquire about Reggie Thomas. She’d already caused quite a stir at the reception area and on their way through the prison both from prisoners and officers. She showed no sign of being aware of it but he knew that she was and that it didn’t affect her in the slightest. Another lesson they must have taught her at that Swiss finishing school, he thought.
‘I’d like to talk to you about Woodley’s attack on Marty Stapleton,’ Horton said after Kirby gestured him into the seat opposite.
‘I gave a full report to Detective Chief Superintendent Sawyer and to Detective Superintendent Uckfield,’ Kirby answered a tad tetchily, his brown eyes studying Horton warily.
‘I know but we’re following up some new information.’ Horton didn’t say what that was and Kirby didn’t ask although he looked as though he wanted to; perhaps something in Horton’s expression prevented him. He would tell him about Salacia but first he wanted to hear about Woodley in case it triggered some new thoughts.
‘He was a slippery sod, a shirker, always feigning illness, trying to get out of his duties, although he rarely did.’
So nothing new there. ‘Was he close to Reggie Thomas while he was in here?’
‘Not particularly, no,’ Kirby answered somewhat cautiously. ‘Thomas wasn’t here very long. He came from Wormwood Scrubs a year before his release, which was three months ago. He was released a week after Woodley.’
‘But they were on the same wing.’
Kirby nodded. ‘For six months, yes.’
‘Why was Thomas transferred from Wormwood?’
‘Same reason as Marty Stapleton was transferred out of here, violence. Thomas was attacked in Wormwood, more than once. It was thought best to remove him and as he was serving the last year of his sentence he was sent here, closer to home.’
‘Was there any trouble with him?’
‘No. Too eager to get out to dirty his nose. The same went for Woodley in the end.’
‘After the attack on Stapleton?’
‘Yes. He never did a thing wrong after that, or before it come to that.’
And Horton found that interesting. The attack had occurred last September. Woodley had been released in March. He said, ‘Why did Woodley attack Marty Stapleton?’
‘Probably didn’t like the colour of his eyes.’ Horton gave a small smile. Kirby continued, ‘Stapleton probably said or did something to get up Woodley’s nose, you know what it can be like in here, just being in the wrong shower at the wrong time is enough.’
‘Is that what happened?’
Kirby shrugged but Horton was rapidly reading between the lines, there was a great deal more to this attack than he’d read in the report. And perhaps Sawyer knew that. Horton also got the impression that Kirby was reluctant to elaborate on it, and the reason for that could be because it reflected badly either on him or on the prison, or both. His silence forced Kirby to add rather reluctantly and testily, ‘Stapleton was transferred after the attack and he’s still inside, so he can’t be Woodley’s assailant.’
‘No, but Stapleton could have organized it from the inside for revenge. Why transfer Stapleton and not Woodley?’
‘Stapleton was a bully. It was believed he provoked the attack. There were quite a few inmates and prison officers glad to see him go.’
Horton thought he smelt an undercurrent here. ‘Are we talking gangs?’ He saw immediately that he’d hit a raw spot.
Defensively Kirby said, ‘We have an active and highly successful violence-reduction strategy. The Woodley incident was a one-off.’
‘But it highlighted weaknesses inside the prison and with your strategy.’
Kirby narrowed his eyes and his lips tightened.
‘Look, Geoff, I’m not here to blame, or criticize, I just need to understand if what happened with Stapleton could lead us to discovering who killed Woodley and why. And before you answer you should know that there’s been another murder, a woman. Her body was found in the sea at Tipner Quay on Wednesday. We don’t have an ID yet and we’re not certain she is connected with Woodley, or Marty Stapleton, but she was last seen at Woodley’s funeral.’ Or rather, he added to
himself, at the crematorium. There had been that small reaction from Gregory Harlow that made Horton wonder if they’d got the wrong funeral. If so he was wasting his time.
Kirby sat back with a heavy sigh. ‘We knew that Stapleton was head of a notoriously powerful gang on the outside and that he was building up his power base here. We could control it, move people around, that was until Victor Riley arrived and he challenged the status quo. What we didn’t know was that Stapleton and Riley were actually rival gang masters in London and that was the real reason why Stapleton was moved, not because of Woodley’s attack, although it gave us the perfect excuse. We needed to break up the gangs. We never let that come out officially, or on the inside, but I’m sure most of the inmates read the situation perfectly.’
And discounting what he might or might not have seen in Gregory Harlow’s reaction a new thought occurred to Horton. Salacia could have been connected with Victor Riley’s gang. Could Woodley also have been associated with this other gang? He said, ‘Did Woodley attack Stapleton under Riley’s orders?’
‘Not that we could prove. When Riley arrived three years ago he joined forces with two smaller gangs in order to build his power base, Woodley was in one of those. After the attack Riley’s and Stapleton’s gangs were broken up but as you know gangs can re-form, it’s a constantly fluid situation.’
‘Where were Stapleton’s minders at the time of the attack?’
Kirby shrugged.
‘They were told by Riley to vanish?’
‘Possibly. I don’t know. Riley had influence. He could be very persuasive.’
Horton noticed the past tense. ‘He’s also been moved?’
‘Yeah, to the great prison in the sky, or in hell hopefully. Died three weeks after the attack on Stapleton and before you go looking for suspicious circumstances there aren’t any. He had a massive heart attack during recreation in front of several witnesses including prison staff, and there was a thorough post-mortem, which confirmed it. After Stapleton was transferred, Woodley went back to being his usual snivelling slippery self but with a respect surrounding him that made me want to puke every time I witnessed it. But like I said he kept his nose clean.’
Horton’s mind was racing with thoughts. Victor Riley couldn’t have ordered Salacia or Woodley to be killed, then, unless he’d left instructions. But he couldn’t have known he was going to keel over from a massive heart attack. But if Salacia was connected with Riley then it made some kind of warped sense that Marty Stapleton might want her taken out as some kind of revenge, or as a warning to Riley’s mob on the outside that he was top dog and not to mess with him, and the same for Woodley.
Removing the photograph of Salacia with dark hair, Horton handed it to Kirby. ‘Do you recognize her?’ He didn’t expect a positive response unless Stapleton or Riley had had a picture of her in their belongings but that seemed too big a break to hope for. But Kirby hesitated and Horton felt a prick of excitement. Was it possible they were correct? Were they going to get the break they so desperately needed?
Kirby studied it for some time. Horton waited. He hardly dared to hope.
‘There’s something familiar about her.’
Horton handed across the computer-enhanced photograph of the victim with fair hair. ‘Does this help.’ He saw instantly that it did. Kirby recognized her. ‘You know who she is?’ Horton asked eagerly.
‘No. But I’ve seen her picture before.’
Horton’s first thoughts were that Salacia must have been an actress, like he’d posed almost as a joke to Uckfield, and they’d all failed to recognize her, but the worried expression on Kirby’s face quickly scotched that idea.
‘Where?’ he asked keenly.
‘Here. I remember her because I was surprised he should have her photograph. And now I come to mention it the timing was rather odd too.’
‘Who had it?’ Horton’s mind raced. ‘Reggie Thomas? Marty Stapleton? Victor Riley?’ he fired off.
‘No. Daryl Woodley.’
So it was possible that Woodley had known her and that she’d been at the crematorium for his funeral. Harlow’s reaction, if there had been one, and Horton now doubted that, had nothing to do with the victim.
‘She was younger than here, though,’ Kirby was saying. ‘About ten years I’d say at a rough guess. And in the photograph I saw she was wearing a strapless summer dress standing on the deck of an expensive-looking boat, gazing out to sea with a frown on her face as though puzzled by something in the distance just like she is in this picture. She looked classy, not at all Woodley’s type, which was one reason why I remember her.’
By using a suitable graphics package on the computer Horton knew they could get the photograph altered to show her younger, but perhaps they didn’t need to go to that much trouble for an identification to be made. Kirby had said she’d been wearing a strapless summer dress.
‘Is there anything else you remember about her, any distinctive marks?’ He held his breath waiting for the answer.
Kirby looked surprised then nodded. ‘Yes, a birthmark or a tattoo; I couldn’t see which exactly, just above her breast, the right one I think. I thought it was a tattoo because it was in the shape of a butterfly and very attractive, drawing your eye to her tits, and they looked like nice tits.’
Not so nice now, Horton thought, recalling with a suppressed shudder the mutilated body on the cold mortuary slab. The birthmark clinched it. Then he recalled what else Kirby had said. Leaning forward he said excitedly, ‘You mentioned the timing being odd and not looking Woodley’s type being one reason why you remember seeing the photograph, what’s the other reason?’ He had already guessed what was coming but he’d let Geoff Kirby tell him.
‘We were searching Woodley’s cell immediately after the attack on Stapleton, and that’s when we came across the photograph.’
‘And you’d never seen it before?’
‘No. And neither had the officer who searched Woodley’s cell with me, Rob Bridewell, but another officer might have come across it at some stage though Woodley never mentioned a woman and no woman came to visit him, certainly not her.’ He stabbed a finger at the photograph. ‘We would have remembered a good-looking woman like that.’
‘What did you do with the photograph?’
‘Put it back where we found it. It had nothing to do with the attack on Stapleton. We were looking to see if Woodley had been paid for his services but we didn’t find anything that works as currency in here stashed away.’
‘Was it in Woodley’s possessions when he was released?’
Kirby was already tapping into his computer. After a moment he said, ‘No.’
‘Was he searched?’
‘Of course but not with the aid of a rubber glove if that’s what you’re thinking.’
Horton smiled briefly before adding, ‘How about Reggie Thomas?’
Again Kirby consulted his computer. ‘No photographs. I’ll check Stapleton’s file.’
‘And Riley’s.’
While he waited Horton tried to work out the significance of the photograph and the timing of its discovery. Several ideas sprang to mind but he didn’t have the luxury of time to pursue them to any conclusion. He would once outside.
Kirby said, ‘No photographs on either Stapleton or Riley. And I never saw this photograph in their possession.’ But again Kirby confirmed they hadn’t been strip-searched. ‘I don’t remember Woodley, Thomas, Stapleton or Riley talking about any woman but I’ll question the staff. I’ll also make enquires about the photograph.’
Horton reached for his card. ‘Call me if you discover anything about her or the photograph, no matter how insignificant. I’ll leave these pictures with you.’ He could get others.
He thanked Kirby for his cooperation and found Eames waiting for him in reception. They headed for the exit. She confirmed that Woodley had never uttered a word about any woman, except the ones he found in porno magazines and saw on the telly. Horton relayed what he’d discovered from Kirby.
‘So the photograph was planted while Woodley carried out the attack on Marty Stapleton,’ she said after they had checked out and were heading to the car.
Horton’s thoughts exactly. ‘The attack was used as a diversion because whoever planted it couldn’t be seen doing so, he’d be traced back to the main man.’
‘Victor Riley?’
‘Or Stapleton. Reggie Thomas could have planted it. He was on that wing then.’ And Uckfield would like that.
Eames zapped open the car. Climbing in and letting down the window, she said, ‘Perhaps Salacia grassed up Victor Riley and he wanted Woodley to get revenge when he got outside.’
‘If he did then someone else has carried out his instructions.’
‘It could be someone who was released just before or after Woodley who was connected with Riley’s gang inside the prison.’
Horton was annoyed he’d missed that. He should have asked Kirby for a list of names. He’d call him and request one to be sent over to Trueman. ‘Do Europol have anything on Victor Riley?’
‘I didn’t come across his name when I was cross-referencing and analysing the robberies. I’ll check.’ She reached for her phone.
Horton forestalled her. ‘On the ferry.’ He stretched the seat belt around him. He’d ask Trueman to pull Riley’s record and Uckfield could ask the Intelligence Directorate if they had anything on him.
Eames pulled away. ‘But that doesn’t explain why Woodley was attacked and left for dead before he had the opportunity to kill Salacia.’
‘It does if once outside Woodley decided he wasn’t going to play ball. Stapleton or Riley, whichever of them has ordered Salacia’s death, gets to hear that Woodley’s chickened out and orders someone to take him out and then kill Salacia.’ Eames frowned in thought. Before she could speak though Horton quickly added, ‘I know, why bother with Woodley at all when this other killer could have carried out instructions.’
While waiting to board the ferry, Horton rang Uckfield to be told by Trueman that the Super was with Dean.
‘DCI Bliss has got nothing out of Reggie Thomas. She’s letting him stew while she has a go at Maureen Sholby to see if she can break her alibi for the time of the attack on Woodley.’
Death Lies Beneath Page 11
