by C. D. Neill
“Beech is hauling us all in about the Robert’s case. It seems that DCI Morris has made a formal complaint.”
“Against whom?”
“You.”
The conversation was limited, since Dunn had been taken off the case before Hammond, she was unable to provide much information.
“All I know is that I was called in to go over my report. Edwards and Galvin had to do the same. I don’t know for sure what the complaint is although I suspect Edwards and Galvin had more to answer than myself.”
“What kind of questions were you asked?”
There was a heavy sigh before Dunn replied.
“Mainly about whether I thought you were capable of doing your job.”
Paul was sulking and Hammond was doing his best pretending not to notice. He knew he owed his son an apology but decided it could wait until they all had a chance to sit down and talk properly that evening. He made an effort to act cheerful and suggested they go Christmas shopping in the afternoon. It was Christmas Eve and therefore probably too late to buy a turkey but there was only the three of them, roast chicken would be just as good. Jenny nodded politely to Hammond’s suggestion but her eyes focused on Paul who had thrown himself into the arm chair and deliberately drowned out his Father’s words by increasing the television’s volume. Tempted though he was to leave Paul to sulk alone, Hammond found himself hobbling towards the sofa bed where he sat and faced his son. He waited for several moments until Paul granted his attention by switching the television off.
“I’ve let you down Paul. Christmas has come too quick and I guess I wasn’t organised enough. It is not too late to go to spend it with your Mum if you prefer.”
Paul looked petulant. “You need me here, you can hardly walk.”
Hammond denied this, realising his son preferred to be elsewhere. He wasn’t surprised although he was disappointed.
“We’ve hardly seen each other Dad. Mum thought you would be lonely here on your own.”
Hammond felt annoyed at Lyn, he knew it was her guilty conscience that was responsible for Paul being where he didn’t want to be. Either that or she wanted to be alone with her new lover without Paul. But whatever the reason, Hammond felt she had manipulated the situation and a burn of resentment towards her flared up in his gut. With restraint, he managed to reassure his son that he wouldn’t be lonely. They arranged to meet in town for a festive meal before Paul and Jenny depart for Lyn’s house that afternoon. First he needed a lift to the Police Headquarters.
The Police Station looked as if it had been subjected to a brawl between tinsel and foil garlands. As Hammond walked into the reception area, he smelt traces of vomit and disinfectant. He wondered what Christmas would be like if all alcohol was banned for a week and then realised it was the kind of thought his mother would have spoken aloud. He saw Dunn immediately upon entering the Serious Crime Unit. She looked tired, her eyes sunken and dark, but she smiled as she saw him and waited patiently as he made slow progress down the corridor, leaning heavily on his crutches and wincing as each movement reminded him of his healing rib.
“I told them all you were coming in today, I wanted to talk to you but it is a bit hectic at the moment. Galvin and I are occupied on a baby shaking case, the last time I saw Edwards he was about to interview a husband arrested for slashing his wife’s face with a broken bottle. There’s no rest for the wicked.”
“Or the ones left to clear their mess.”
Dunn smiled wearily as they made their way inch by inch towards Detective Superintendent Beech’s office, she knocked on the door and left before Hammond hobbled into the office. DCI Brian Morris was evidently waiting for Hammond’s arrival; his face was set and looked as if he were attempting to restrain an outburst. Beech stood up as Hammond entered and made a performance of moving a chair closer towards Hammond gesturing for him to be seated. He gave the expected polite greeting of welcoming Hammond back before Hammond interrupted and cut to the chase.
“I understand you wanted to see me regarding the Robert’s case?”
Morris turned towards Hammond; he was a good looking man in his early forties. Lean and fit he was often in the newspapers for running marathons and fundraising for numerous charities. Hammond felt in awe of the man’s physique but managed to hide his inner thoughts behind a deliberate open expression.
“DCI Morris has asked me to make some enquiries regarding your involvement in the investigation Wallace. It seems that there have been some details not included in the original report which should have been.”
“Oh?” Hammond’s expression was one of innocent enquiry. He raised an eyebrow at Morris who had leaned back in his chair, the back of his hand rested against his mouth as he allowed Beech to do the talking.
“A neighbour of the late Mr Roberts phoned to enquire whether we had caught the intruder that had been prowling around the neighbourhood. In particular he was most keen to know how long Dymchurch Road was going to be under surveillance.”
Hammond’s eyebrows rose up further; he turned to Morris and shrugged slightly as if he was as confused as the others. Morris appraised Hammond, his eyes narrowed.
“Cut the crap Hammond! You knew Edwards had been conducting his own surveillance without authorisation and you know why. He had been watching the house for days before he caught Samuel Lawson letting himself in to the house last night!”
This was news to Hammond whose ears immediately switched to selective hearing mode. He failed to hear Morris’ continued ranting as he acknowledged DC Edwards’s success. Samuel Lawson. That was a surprise, but then as Hammond digested the information, he realised it wasn’t a surprise, it was the exact opposite. Especially since Lawson was seen letting himself in, presumably with a spare set of keys since there had been no sign of forced entry into Robert’s house. The answer had been staring them all in the face since the beginning. He wasn’t aware that he smiled until Morris’s voice increased in volume.
“...You wanted to stir things up from the very beginning! Everyone knows you wanted to delay the arrest of Thomas Taylor. You’ve handled this case as badly as you handled your team, only now it’s down to us to sort your mess out!”
Hammond leaned forward, ignoring Beech who had sat up ready to take control of the situation. He kept his voice deliberately calm.
“If my team and I had been allowed to investigate Robert’s murder proficiently, I wouldn’t have had to go behind anyone’s back. My team knew that there were too many unanswered questions. Unlike you, they are not so concerned with their case solving ratings as they are doing their jobs efficiently.”
“Damn it Hammond, you always have been a pedantic bastard! You had a confession and substantiating forensic evidence! You had everything you needed! The case was solved.”
“No. It wasn’t, it still isn’t. Not until you can account for the several phone calls to the mobile number or missing wallet, the missing mail or the large cash transactions. Where did the money go? Was Robert’s being blackmailed? If so, you have an alternative motive.”
Morris swore, he found Hammond old fashioned and stubborn; a dinosaur whose methods were outdated and lacking.
“No wonder you haven’t made it past Detective Inspector! The boy gave a motive. The fact that Roberts was a pervert was backed up by Schaffer’s statement. Thomas Taylor lied about training with the other boys, he probably lied about forgetting what he had done with the wood he used to strike Roberts. Either way, his confession and the evidence was good enough for the CPS, anything else will come up in court if it needs to...”
Hammond interrupted. “Did it not occur to you that the woman who made the complaint in 2001 against Roberts shared the same surname as Samuel Lawson? I will bet that Samuel Lawson was the boy approached by Roberts all those years ago in the public toilets. I am also willing to bet that Samuel Lawson recognised Roberts and blackmailed him, and I am sure you will no doubt discover that the money given to him by Roberts was spent on expensive bike components, all of w
hich were paid for online by a credit card under Robert’s name. Moreover, it wouldn’t surprise me if the missing post was collected by Lawson in an attempt to hide the credit card statements. As Lawson is an arrogant little git, it is likely he has held onto the credit card which was probably in Robert’s wallet when it was taken either before or after his death, and I am sure will be found in Lawson’s possession when you have conducted a search.”
Hammond paused. He felt liberated. He tried not to show his pleasure at having sussed out what should have been obvious at the beginning but he couldn’t help it and eventually allowed himself to face Beech whilst still grinning.
Beech coughed “It’s nothing but supposition Wallace. However, it won’t take long to check it out if it is as you say, but what about Lawson’s statement? He had an alibi for the time of the attack.”
Hammond shook his head. “He said he was at home, it is hard to disprove but if he did travel up to Saltwood, he would have cycled or would have taken the train like he usually did. I reckon he would have travelled to Saltwood by train, but possibly, if he was worried about being seen later would have cycled back. Either way, it is easy enough to check.”
DCI Morris spoke up “Lawson gave us a DNA sample, it didn’t match anything found at the scene.”
“I am not suggesting that he attacked Graham Roberts. I believe Thomas is responsible for that. But I reckon Lawson has something to do with this. At the very least he withheld information about Schaffer warning him about Roberts. Why would he do that unless he was hiding something? He may have witnessed the attack or he may have come across Roberts afterwards as he lay injured. It could have been Lawson who had covered the body with the logs or even taken the wallet and the nitrates.”
“What about fingerprints? There weren’t any on those logs.”
“Lawson wears bike gloves. There would be no fingerprints.”
“The bank statements showed cash withdrawals, not credit transfer.”
Hammond shrugged. “It is still possible that Roberts withdrew cash from his current account to pay the credit card bills in full each time. It’s a complicated way of doing it but not out of the ordinary.”
“And the mobile?”
“It could or could not be Lawson’s number, but it shouldn’t be hard to check.”
There was a pause as the three men considered the next plan of action. Eventually Beech spoke.
“Well, if you are right, it does give a different perspective on things. It is possible that Lawson could have called emergency services and saved Roberts or even have intervened and prevented his attack which means he will have to face charges. Also, we have a substantiated motive behind Thomas’s attack on Roberts, two witnesses who can back up the theory that Roberts was a sexual deviant.” He sighed. “Of course, the media will get the public behind the boys once they get a sniff he was a threat to kids.” Beech turned to DCI Morris.
“You are going to have to find the wallet, check if there is a credit card. Find the statements and any receipts for the bike parts. It is worth finding out how Lawson let himself into the house. There wasn’t a forced entry so he could have had a spare key which suggests he had known Roberts better than he led us to believe. Confirm whether he was the boy approached in 2001, the names could be a co-incidence.”
Beech waited until DCI Morris left the office. He scratched his head as he looked at Hammond, positioned like a rag doll in the chair opposite him.
“Wallace, you are a pain in the arse sometimes. I bloody well hope you are right. What the hell was Edwards thinking? I presume he was acting on your orders?”
He acknowledged Hammonds shaken head as denial.
“The media are going to have a field day with this one. I blame you entirely, the whole investigation has been a catastrophe but hopefully it can be turned on its head and be seen to have a successful outcome. It goes without saying that you are not to be involved in this case any further.”
Hammond sat up straighter in the chair. His ankle was throbbing but he was trying to wean himself off the painkillers.
“You think I am a weak link in the chain, is that it?”
Beech looked surprised by Hammond’s directness. “No. Not at all. But I think you have been behaving less like a police officer and more of an independent investigator lately and I struggle to understand why.”
Hammond was about to answer, his satisfaction with the way the Robert’s case was turning out was making him feel bold. There was plenty he wanted to say but he never got the chance to speak his mind. Beech came around the table and sat in the chair Morris had just vacated. He looked at Hammond for several moments before speaking.
“You need to be interviewed again about the car accident. What do you know about the crash Wallace?”
The question was asked not by an interested colleague but as a police officer about to embark on an interrogation. It surprised Hammond enough to be quiet for several moments as he wondered why Beech was interested. It was inevitable that he was to be questioned again. His memory hadn’t returned wholly yet but Hammond had presumed that the investigation would be handled in the normal channels by the Serious Collision Investigation Team.
“A car swerved in front of me and caused me to crash into it.” The answer was simple, it was all Hammond knew but he trusted the information he had been given by the young officer had been true.
Beech looked down at the floor as if he were thinking what to say next and then met Hammond’s eyes.
“No. Not quite. Your car has been examined. You crashed into the car in front because your car’s brake calliper bolts had been cut then loosely refitted, causing them to shear under heavy breaking.”
Hammond was unsure how to respond. Beech’s words were ridiculous. It was impossible that anyone would have had the chance to sabotage his car or even have any reason to do so. Yet he could see Beech was serious. As he sat in stunned silence, Beech collected a folder from his desk and handed it to Hammond, encouraging him to open it. Inside there were photographs showing multiple angles of twisted metal and vehicle carnage scattered across three lanes of a motorway.
From what Hammond could tell, there had been several cars that had been destroyed. He found himself gulping, his mouth and throat had become dry.
“How many...?”
Even as he asked the question, Hammond knew the answer was going to be worse than he could possibly have hoped for.
“Two died, another was in hospital for two weeks. You are not to blame Hammond. That is clear from the witness reports, however, your car wasn’t roadworthy so you will be held partially accountable.”
Hammond nodded. His mind was fogged. None of what Beech was telling him made any sense. He questioned how it was possible that anyone could have cut his brake calliper bolts without anyone noticing. Surely it would have taken time and skill to have done such a thing?
“Is there anything I should know?” Beech was offering Hammond an opportunity to explain why someone would want him dead but Hammond was as confused as his superior officer. He didn’t know anyone who could have done such a thing or would have had any reason to do so. He had received death threats before, it was part of his job to piss criminals off by incarcerating them but less threats were made with the actual promise of being fulfilled.
“DS Dunn suggested you were re-investigating an old case?”
Hammond looked at Beech surprised. What had Dunn told him? Surely she wouldn’t have told Beech about Lloyd Harris? He didn’t answer, preferring to wait until he knew how much Dunn had shared.
“She didn’t tell me anything as such, just a comment that she spoke without thinking before she clammed up. So, I did some checking of my own. It seemed you did some research into a murder from 1991 and checked the computer records on suicides that have happened within the last two years.”
Hammond said nothing. Each computer search was logged, telling the date, time and the searchers identity, he knew this but hadn’t thought anyone would check up on h
is movements.
Beech was waiting for an explanation but he wasn’t going to get one. He looked at his watch impatiently before getting up and returning to his desk.
“It’s Christmas Wallace and I have a family to go to. I can’t be bothered to sit around playing mind games but I will say this; Providing you maintain the lifestyle of a law-abiding citizen, what you do in your own time is your business. But if you are going to investigate a case in a non-official capacity, you do it in your own time and with your own resources. Keep a day book and log everything. Is that understood? If there is a crime to investigate, by all means, present me with the facts and we’ll consider it but otherwise, leave it outside of this office.” Hammond interpreted Beech’s tone as an opportunity to leave. He shuffled his way out of the chair by leaning heavily on his crutches.
“How long are you going to be on sick leave?”
Hammond turned his attention back to Beech. “Six weeks.”
“Use the time wisely Wallace. Don’t come back until you are fully operational. Hopefully by then this car crash business will be resolved.”
Hammond shared the thought. He looked up at the foil arrangement resembling a star hanging above him and wished on it hard.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
As Wallace Hammond threw the dregs of cognac down his throat, he realised he was feeling tipsy and very nearly overbalanced off his stool. The bar attendant was a bald headed Irish man who enjoyed having an audience and caused Hammond to laugh at everything he said even if it wasn’t particularly funny. He refilled the glass that Hammond slammed back onto the bar whilst telling a joke about a nymphomaniac nun. The punch line lacked lustre but caused Hammond to laugh loudly, attracting the attention of fellow diners in the restaurant next door. Hammond raised his glass and toasted the onlookers with a wide grin before tossing back the liquid in an extravagant display of Christmas joviality. They responded with cold stares of disapproval before turning their gaze away from him. He shrugged and muttered to his new Irish friend that people had no humour nowadays. The barman suggested that maybe he should go and celebrate Christmas with his family. In reply Hammond pushed his glass forward to be refilled.
