Rough Justice (Knight & Culverhouse Book 4)

by Adam Croft

  ‘Are you serious?’ Wendy asked, knowing full well that he was deadly serious but hoping that he wasn’t.

  ‘Listen, Knight,’ he replied, looking her in the eye. ‘Sometimes you just have to accept that the world isn’t perfect. We can’t save the day every time.’

  Wendy shook her head in disbelief. ‘So what do you suggest we do? Just sit back and let him get on with it? Give him the medal of honour for helping us out?’

  ‘Policing’s changed in my time,’ Culverhouse said, seeming to ignore the question. ‘They bang on about all this collaborative shit now, but that’s bollocks. It’s not collaborative. Back when I started, the focus was on getting the murderers, rapists and criminals off the streets. Whatever it took. If someone else was doing our job for us, we let them get on with it. That’s fucking collaborative.’

  ‘There’s no excuse!’ Wendy replied, now starting to get severely worried about him. ‘What if this person thinks they’ve identified another person who’s a paedophile or whatever and they’re wrong? He’s already playing fast and loose with his definition by killing Jeff Brelsford. Who’s to say he’s going to get the right person every time?’

  Culverhouse shrugged his shoulders. ‘Policing’s always carried risks. Always will.’

  ‘But this is more than a risk. We’re talking about innocent people potentially being harmed or killed.’

  ‘And for what reason?’ Culverhouse replied quickly, the words practically tripping over themselves. ‘I’ll tell you what reason. Because those bastards are harming innocent people anyway. Innocent children. We’re talking about paedophiles here, not fucking Greenpeace activists.’

  ‘I knew I shouldn’t have told you,’ Wendy said quietly, almost whispered. ‘In fact, I shouldn’t have come here. I can’t help you. You can’t even help yourself.’

  Culverhouse said nothing and sat with his chin propped on his hand, staring at the wall. After a few seconds, Wendy got up and left.

  Driving home, she started to become more and more infuriated with Culverhouse. Who did he think he was, trying to justify gangs of vigilantes taking the law into their own hands? He’d always been a dinosaur with some pretty backward ideas, but this was something else. He was almost defending what they were doing. He’d seemed offended that Wendy didn’t agree with him and support it too. That struck her as being particularly odd.

  Jack Culverhouse had changed recently, there was no doubt about that. He’d become far more unstable and she’d found it increasingly difficult to predict his actions.

  She had to think of something else. She ran through the facts of the case to distract herself. Both murder victims had a history of sexual contact with young people and had been listed on ViSOR as sexual offenders. The vigilante theory was looking strong. That’s when it hit her. Jack Culverhouse would’ve had access to ViSOR.

  29

  Like most officers at Mildenheath, Wendy tried to avoid going to Milton House wherever possible. This time, though, she knew she had no choice. She’d timed her visit carefully, but had still sat waiting in the canteen for almost half an hour before she saw Xavier Moreno come in for his lunch. That was the best thing about the techies and lab geeks: they could always rely on actually having a lunch break and having it at around the same time each day.

  Xavier was instantly recognisable, even though Wendy had only met him once or twice. His olive skin and striking Hispanic looks had come from his father — as had his name — even though he’d never set foot in Spain in his life.

  Wendy didn’t need to go over and initiate a conversation; she knew he’d be over like a shot as soon as he saw her. For someone who worked for the police, he hadn’t been particularly good at hiding his attraction to Wendy the last time they’d met.

  ‘Wendy!’ she heard him call as he came over to her table with a packaged sandwich and a mug of coffee. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Wendy smiled. ‘Got to pop by every now and then, unfortunately. Show them I’m still alive.’

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ Xavier said, smiling back. ‘How are things down at Mildenheath?’

  ‘Yeah, good. Keeping busy as always,’ Wendy replied.

  ‘So I hear. Still, at least you’ve taken Malcolm Pope off our hands, so I suppose we’d better thank you for that,’ he said, laughing.

  Wendy laughed too. ‘Christ, doesn’t anyone like him?’

  ‘The big cheeses. All except the Chief Constable, that is, but he won’t be around forever. Everyone above him loves him, but anyone who actually has to deal with his shit can’t stand him. He wants everything yesterday. I’ve never seen anyone fuck up a computer as often as he does. Do you know how many new logins we have to do for him? He’s a nightmare.’

  Wendy laughed again, mostly to ingratiate Xavier. ‘Funny thing is, he’d be the first one to make someone feel like shit for forgetting their logins.’

  ‘Exactly! What a dick, man.’

  It was things like that which showed Wendy that Xavier was perhaps a little too young in the mind for her.

  ‘Listen, Xav. I was wondering if you might be able to do me a favour. Off the record, I mean.’

  Xavier sucked air in through his teeth in mock disgust. ’Off the record? Blimey, they’re not words we tend to hear all that often around here with DCI Pope about.’

  ‘Yeah, well he’s wormed his way into my office for the foreseeable future so you’re clear.’

  ‘What is this exactly?’ Xavier asked. ‘I know we’re good friends and that, but I’m not going to put my job on the line.’

  ‘No, no, nothing like that,’ Wendy said, smiling to placate him. ‘I just need to know about some computer records. You know Jack Culverhouse has been put on leave? Well, I need to look into something,’ she lied. ‘But you can’t say anything to anyone. This is strictly on the QT.’

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  ‘I need a log of Culverhouse’s ViSOR searches. Dates, times, records he looked at.’

  Xavier rubbed his mouth and scratched his head. ’Christ, Wendy. I dunno. Investigating a serving officer? That’s more than my job’s worth. You’d have to go through the Chief Constable for that.’

  ‘I have,’ Wendy lied. ‘By which I mean he asked me to speak to you. He has his suspicions but says it needs to be handled carefully. Again, this is all strictly between the two of us.’

  ‘Bloody hell. I thought Hawes was good mates with Culverhouse?’

  Wendy nodded. ‘They get on. That’s why this needs to be kept quiet.’

  ‘Right, I see. Well, I mean, it’s possible to do. I’m the system admin for our force. There’s no-one above me, practically speaking, who’d be able to see that I’d looked. The Chief Constable could technically request the records from the central server admins to see what I’d been up to, but if this is all at his request...’

  ‘Exactly. He’d have to go through the IPCC or take it central. That’d leave a paper trail, which he doesn’t want in case he’s wrong.’

  Xavier sighed. ‘I’ll think on it, alright? I’m not saying I won’t — I want to help you, really I do — I just need to think it over and make sure we’re watertight on this. It’s possible, but I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks.’

  Wendy smiled, leant over and kissed Xavier on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Xav. You’re an absolute star.’

  That should be enough to tip him over the edge and onto her side, she thought.

  30

  He was in a quandary. He’d majorly fucked up with Terry Kendall and he knew it. If that bloody woman hadn’t come nosing round he could’ve tied up all the loose ends just how he wanted, but he’d been made to change his plans at the last minute. He didn’t like that one bit.

  He should’ve been onto the next target by now, but something was stopping him. He worried it might be fear, but told himself it was just caution. Being fearful right now just wouldn’t do. No, it was caution. He’d come close to being spotted — might even have been spotted — and he couldn
’t risk it again so soon.

  The plan had to be adhered to, though. After all, no-one else was going to give these bastards what they deserved. These prats masquerading as police officers and detectives certainly weren’t going to dish out justice. Not justice as he saw it, anyway. As far as he was concerned, real justice died a long time ago.

  Thankfully, he had two prongs of attack. Two ways of sourcing his targets. He’d used one as a backup for the other up until now, but he had started to consider that it might be wise to drop one. After all, if the police somehow managed to start following a trail, there was always a likelihood that he could be discovered. Nothing was ever completely untraceable — he’d found that much out a long time ago and up until now had used it to his advantage.

  No, he was going to have to alter his plans slightly. He knew the police would possibly be expecting him to do so, and in many ways that’s what they were counting on: getting him out of his comfort zone and hoping he made a mistake which would lead them to him without them having to actually do the legwork. That was how things worked.

  What they wouldn’t expect, though, would be that he’d move onto a backup plan, just as well rehearsed as his main plan. They probably wouldn’t even be able to tie up the links. That was the gamble he was going to have to take, anyway. It’d need a new mindset, a new psychological approach, but that was fine with him.

  He popped another square of chocolate into his mouth. He’d almost gone through the whole bar in the last ten minutes, but he didn’t care. Life had always been good to him in that way. He’d never put on weight, never lost his hair and never had many of the worries that other people had in everyday life. His worries went much deeper. He was worried for society, for humanity as a whole. And he was going to fix it.

  31

  Fortunately for Wendy, Xavier Moreno had had the good sense to phone her on her private mobile. She knew she’d taken a different kind of risk in giving him that number, but she supposed it wouldn’t do her any harm to string him along for a bit. After all, he could prove to be very useful.

  She tried not to sound too desperate as she answered the phone, keeping her excitement in check. She knew that whatever Xavier told her would steer the investigation off in one sharp direction or another.

  She hoped her suspicions weren’t correct. Not only would that potentially mean that everything she’d believed about Jack Culverhouse had been wrong, but from a purely selfish point of view it would be impossible to ever look Malcolm Pope in the eye again. Not only would Culverhouse be ruined, but Pope would be the golden boy for evermore.

  ‘Hi Xavier,’ she said, as calmly as she could.

  ‘Hi. I’ve got some news on the logs you asked me to look at,’ Xavier said. ‘Now, I’ve got to point out that someone looking at ViSOR records doesn’t really mean much in itself. I mean, it’s not looked at all that commonly by DCIs unless they’re specifically investigating a sex-related case, but it’s not rare enough to be immediately suspicious, if you see what I mean.’

  ‘Yes, I understand,’ Wendy said, hoping he’d get to the point.

  ‘The only way you’d be able to really say if something was a little bit odd was if records were being looked up when they had nothing to do with an active case that the officer was assigned to. That tends to be a bit of a red herring, but doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Now, first things first, Culverhouse hasn’t looked at anyone’s specific records in a few months, and he’s never specifically looked up the names of either Jeff Brelsford or Terry Kendall. But that’s not all.’

  ‘Just tell me,’ Wendy said, annoyed at Xavier’s dramatic pause.

  ‘He did do a radius search on all known offenders living within a ten mile radius, three days before Jeff Brelsford was killed. Brelsford would’ve shown up on the search.’

  ‘But you said he didn’t look up their names, right?’ Wendy asked.

  ‘Yes, true. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. If he’d looked up their names and viewed records, that would’ve left a trace. He would’ve known that, too, so wouldn’t have wanted to risk it. Let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that he does the radius search. The names pop up. He can’t risk going into any records and leaving a trace, so he jots some names down on paper. He could find their details out in any way he liked. Electoral roll? Phone book? He’s a detective, Wendy. He could find a way.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Wendy said, trying to take it all in. ‘So what’s your instinct?’

  Xavier laughed. ‘I don’t do instincts. I leave that to your lot. I do databases. And that’s what the database says.’

  Wendy realised she had a lot of thinking to do. Having been working on Culverhouse’s team for a while now, she knew that he had no reason to be looking up sexual offenders on ViSOR. They hadn’t dealt with a sexual crime for some time — that tended to go straight to Milton House — and the period leading up to Jeff Brelsford’s killing had been particularly slow, with the team working on the tail end of some organised crime and fraud cases. Certainly nothing that would have meant Jack Culverhouse needing to search ViSOR.

  ‘Is there nothing more?’ Wendy asked, desperate to know either way what this meant. Her mind was becoming so clouded with confusion that she just wanted Xavier to tell her definitively either way if Culverhouse was involved. The rational part of her brain knew that he couldn’t possibly make that judgement call, but right now she wasn’t sure she was capable of it either.

  ‘Not that I can see,’ Xavier said. ‘But like I said, it doesn’t mean too much on its own. It could be entirely innocent.’

  ‘But it might not be,’ Wendy said before her brain could stop her.

  Xavier paused before speaking. ‘That’s for you to decide, Wendy.’

  She thought back to what she already knew. Marius, Jeff Brelsford’s neighbour from across the road, had seen a man with dark hair wearing a suit heading up Jeff Brelsford’s front path on the night he was murdered. Yes, the description fitted Culverhouse, but it could also fit practically any other person. It was extremely unlikely, she thought, that a Detective Chief Inspector — and especially one who’d been in the national news recently — would just brazenly walk up a garden path in the middle of Mildenheath and kill a man at his front door. Then again, she knew damn well that Jack Culverhouse had been remarkably unpredictable recently. What was to say he hadn’t just gone completely off the rails?

  No. She was being stupid, she told herself. How could she even suspect him? She’d put two and two together and come up with a thousand. It was all circumstantial at best, but it still didn’t stop the nagging doubt at the back of her brain. After all, in the frame of mind Jack Culverhouse had been in recently, absolutely anything was possible.

  32

  One of the first things Wendy had realised after joining the police force was that you should never be surprised by anything. Just when you thought you’d seen it all, something else would pop up when you least expected it and throw a huge spanner in the works.

  The realisation had stunned her. That Jack Culverhouse could not only have been reluctant to investigate a murder was shocking enough, but not entirely surprising. The possibility that he could have been more directly involved, though, was something else.

  Her instinct was that she needed to speak to someone about this, but she was severely limited in her options. Frank, Debbie and Steve were completely out of the question as their loyalty to Culverhouse was stronger than hers. Going to Malcolm Pope or Charles Hawes would be equally stupid, as it would to speak to just about any serving officer. It struck her again that she had very, very few people she knew from outside the police force.

  There was only one person she could speak to. Someone who knew the pressures of the job. Someone who knew Jack Culverhouse at his rawest and what he was capable of.

  She’d not even properly thought about how to attack the subject as she found herself walking up Robin Grundy’s driveway and ringing his doorbell. He answered the door a few seconds later, smil
ing happily. Wendy supposed that he never smiled quite that readily when he was a serving police officer. That would have been something that had come with retirement.

  She decided that this time she would accept Robin’s offer of a cup of tea. After all, it seemed as though this could be quite a long and drawn-out chat. She knew she couldn’t give too much away — this was a situation in which she knew she couldn’t trust anyone — and she needed to be very careful indeed as to how she tried to elicit information from Grundy. After all, he was a far more seasoned detective than she was.

  ‘Did you go to see Jack?’ he asked, before taking a sip of his steaming mug of tea.

  ‘We’ve spoken,’ Wendy replied. ‘I’m still trying to figure out how to win him round. I wanted to talk to you about something completely different, though.’

  ‘Sounds interesting. Go on,’ Robin said, taking another sip of tea.

  Wendy sighed. ‘I don’t know how much I can tell you. The thing is, there’s been some suspicion that one or two officers might be involved in some shady dealings.’ That should be vague enough, she thought.

  ‘What kind of shady dealings?’ Robin asked.

  ‘I can’t really say. Sorry. But it involves feeding information to people who shouldn’t have it.’

  Robin nodded. ‘This to do with the Ripper case?’

  Wendy saw no reason to dissuade him of that assumption. ‘Yes. Yes, it is.’

  ‘Thought so,’ Robin said. ‘I did wonder how the press had so much information at the time. There’s no way I would’ve passed that level of detail onto them and I doubted very much if Jack Culverhouse would’ve done. It’s always been a big problem, though. Not as much as it used to be, mind. In my day there were more officers passing information onto the criminals than the press.’