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Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)

Page 22

by Salkeld, J J


  They walked across the Meadows in the sunshine, and when a police car came past, with its siren blaring and its lights flashing, Alison didn’t even jump. She knew this feeling was temporary, that it was all just a holiday from her real life, but it was searching for permanence that had got her in to this situation in the first place. She decided to enjoy the moment for as long as it lasted.

  Friday, 17th May

  ‘This isn’t the end of the matter’ Hall said to the team, ‘but we have to accept that Alison Thornton is away, at least for now. Either she’s hidden the car in Penrith, possibly with the help of an accomplice, or she left via a route that isn’t covered by ANPR perhaps, and then abandoned the car later. It will be found, but even if we found it today the chances of us picking up her trail again are low. So, we’re scaling back the team, to the five of you here this morning, and we need to revisit our strategy. So let’s talk to every other mainland UK force, and send them pictures of the car, plus the modified version of the picture of Alison, with her hair as it is now. Or at least as it was when she was last seen.’

  ‘What about an accomplice then, boss?’ asked Ray Dixon.

  ‘There’s nothing to suggest that she had one, and if I were her I’d have done this on my own, much safer. I might be wrong.’

  ‘It’s happened before’ called out Dixon, and Hall stopped and smiled.

  ‘It has indeed, Ray, and I’ve noted that remark for your next appraisal. When is it again?’

  ‘Next week, boss’ said Dixon, and the rest laughed. Superintendent Robinson was conspicuous by his absence today, and that made everyone that bit more relaxed.

  ‘Timing is everything, Ray. Now look, I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s the way of the world. So we have to concentrate on what we can do cost-effectively. So let’s try to get Alison Thornton on every coppers’ mind, at least for a day or two, and we might get lucky. And myself and Jane are going to head down this morning and liaise with the Merseyside lot, see if we can get a lead on where Alison has gone from what they’re doing. And by the way, a bit of good news for everyone. I have it on very good authority that Ian Mann will be back with us on Monday, and I’m pleased to say that the external investigation has recommended no disciplinary action. And I’m still hoping he’ll get a medal.’

  There was a ripple of applause. Hall held up his hand.

  ‘And remember that there’s always a chance that Alison will decide to give herself up. She knows the calibre of detectives we have here, after all. Seriously, when she’s had the chance to think about it Alison might decide that she’s better off taking her chances with us then she is waiting for Cafferty’s lot to find her. She might have the strength to start again from nothing, and fabricate a new identity, but does she really have the strength, the will to do that and stick with it for the rest of her life? Usually they don’t. So don’t be astonished if she gets in touch, OK?’

  Hall was looking forward to the drive down with Jane. He’d cleaned out the car, and chosen his CDs with care. He had to resist the feeling that they were going away for the weekend, and in any case he needed to get back home before tea-time on Saturday, because of Alice’s exams next week. And he wanted to make a proper Sunday dinner, with all the trimmings.

  As they’d walked to the car Hall had guessed that Jane would want to talk about work at first, and personal stuff later. He was right. It wasn’t just criminals who could compartmentalise their lives.

  ‘So Alison is away then’ said Jane.

  ‘Yes, and unaided too. She’s a smart operator. I wonder how she did it?’

  ‘I taught her everything she knows.’

  Hall smiled. ‘Not your fault Jane. But of course having that insight into how we work probably did help her drop out of sight like that. But I still reckon we’ll find her again, dead or alive.’

  ‘You think Cafferty’s people will kill her if they find her?’

  ‘Yes, and they might have already of course. Her body might be in a shallow grave in the Eden Valley somewhere. But I really doubt that. My guess is that her first priority was to lose us, and then do the same with Cafferty. If she’s got any sense she’ll stop using any cash cards they gave her, or at least use them infrequently and in different places. But that’s her problem. Our problem is trying to work out where she’s gone.’

  ‘And why she did it in the first place.’

  ‘Absolutely. I’ve read the bloody file that Tony Sheridan’s mob has put together, every single word, twice, and I still don’t have a clue. Don’t get me wrong, they’ve done a decent job, but I can’t see anything that tells us why she got mixed up with Cafferty’s people.’

  ‘People do change, Andy. They do irrational things sometime.’

  Hall smiled slightly, and Jane noticed. She knew that he’d keep thinking about why his marriage had broken down, and worrying away at it, but not everything was about him.

  ‘Of course, but usually within limits. That’s why most of our regulars keep on offending, isn’t it? I’d just have Alison down as someone logical and sensible, to the point of being dull, imaginative even.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  Hall picked up the edge in Jane’s voice. He would have to choose his words more carefully. ‘She is an accountant, for a start. It’s not a job that’s normally chosen by people who crave a life of unbridled excitement, is it?’

  ‘Don’t you think you’re stereotyping?’

  ‘Maybe just a bit, but there’s other things too. Never moved far from where she was brought up, never married. Plenty of boyfriends apparently, but never got across the line.’

  ‘Would you be saying the same about a bloke? I bet you’d think he was just playing the field.’

  ‘Come on, you know me better than that. Of course I would. I’m just talking about risk-aversion, a desire to be in control of your world, even if it shrinks round you because of that. I’m not drawing any comparisons, Jane, honestly. I didn’t know the woman. Maybe she’s an absolute raver on the quiet.’

  Jane laughed, and Hall was relieved. ‘An absolute raver? what is this, 1968?’

  ‘You know what I mean. The things about still waters running deep and all that is usually just crap. It’s just that the people over in the white water, whether they’re enjoying it or not, think that something interesting must be going on in the calm bit. But for lots of people it isn’t.’

  ‘The wit and wisdom of Andy Hall, eh?’

  ‘And there’s plenty more where that came from. Talking of wit, I nearly choked on my breakfast this morning. Did you hear that brilliant story about those WI ladies who dressed up as pirates because they had a chap coming to talk about piracy?’

  ‘No, what’s so funny about that?’

  ‘They thought he was a historian, coming to talk about Blackbeard and parrots and maps with Xs on, but in fact the poor bloke had been held hostage by Somali pirates, and had come to talk about his experiences.’

  ‘Sounds like it must have happened in Cumbria.’

  ‘That’s what I thought, but it was in Cornwall I think. Anyway, apparently the poor bloke saw the funny side.’

  ‘So he didn’t batter them all to death with their own wooden legs?’

  ‘No, can you imagine the crime report if he had? Some poor PC making an inventory of pieces of eight and bottles of rum.’

  ‘Sounds like a good night out where I come from.’

  ‘Talking of which, have you got any plans for Sunday night?’

  ‘No, I’m out walking through the day, why?’

  ‘I wondered if you fancied supper round with us, then maybe a film at The Brewery.’

  ‘Sounds lovely, but is it some art house thing?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You do know that at this stage in our relationship it’s normal to watch a rom-com together. And then, in a few years time, I’ll be watching that sort of thing on my own, curled up alone on the sofa with a bottle of Viognier and a box of tissues.’

  ‘That’s someth
ing to look forward to, then.’

  ‘Didn’t you say that we all revert to type in the end?’

  Hall laughed. ‘Something like that. This one sounds like fun anyway.’

  ‘It’s not the one about the blokes driving around Turkey in the dark, then doing a grisly autopsy, is it? That just sounded like an especially bad day at work.’

  ‘You mean Once upon a Time in Anatolia? Not a barrel of laughs I agree, but still a fantastic film, honestly.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it. So what’s this one about, Mongolian yak herders who’ve experienced a difficult cheese-making season, with all the drama and/or hilarity that entails?’

  ‘You’ve seen it then, have you?’ said Hall, laughing.

  Terry Walker was feeling better. He knew because he was starting to feel really angry about how he’d been treated. It wasn’t his fault if that mad bitch had decided to kill herself, he was absolutely sure of that now. He even asked Kylie what she thought, and she agreed. ‘Might be best to keep your head down though, Terry love, until it all blows over.’

  But Walker’s world wasn’t a very big one, and apart from two weeks in the sun each August he rarely went further than town, to the bookies, the pub, and occasionally a club with Kylie. He lay on the sofa and read the paper, starting at the back page. There was a horse running later in the day that he’d backed a couple of times before, and which had almost won both times. And the longer he looked at it the more convinced he became that today would be different. He shouted to Kylie to ask if she had any cash. She said she thought she might have a tenner, but that they needed milk, bread and a couple of other things.

  ‘I’ll get them’ he said. ‘Just write them down so I don’t forget.’

  She came in to the living room, holding the note in front of her.

  ‘You will remember to get milk and bread’ she said, looking doubtful. ‘Just those two things, love.’ He nodded, but Kylie knew that she had no chance of getting either.

  Half an hour later Walker pulled the front door closed behind him, and felt the hot sun on his face. How long had this weather lasted? He couldn’t remember exactly, two weeks, maybe three? What he did know was that he needed to take advantage of it, and with Eleanor and her kid gone they’d be able to enjoy a barbecue in peace out the back. The neighbours on the other side were an older couple and they were as good as gold. Walker never heard a peep out of them.

  He enjoyed the stroll in to town, and his good feeling about that horse was getting stronger with every step. He decided to bet the whole tenner, and then see if he could cadge a pint after. The betting shop was dark after the sunlit street, and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust. When they did he saw that he knew both men who were in there, an older man who his dad had worked with years before, and a younger one who his lads had been to school with. A little, weasel-faced lad who worked part-time in the off licence on the estate. Terry was still searching for his name and thinking what a cushy number he had when the lad walked past him, and even thought there was plenty of space he dipped his shoulder hard into Terry as he passed. Terry was so surprised that he didn’t react, and he just watched the kid walk out through the open door.

  Jean, the woman behind the counter, had been taking Terry’s bets since he was a teenager, and she’d seen what happened. Terry couldn’t read her expression, but perhaps that was because of the scratched bandit glass between them.

  ‘Bad loser’ he said, as he shrugged and smiled at her.

  ‘That must be it, love.’

  When he got to the pub he was glad he’d only put on a fiver, because no-one called out and asked what he wanted. But he saw a couple of lads he knew, so he bought a pint and went over to them. Neither had ever given him any trouble, so he was feeling pretty relaxed.

  ‘All right lads.’

  One of them mumbled something, and whatever conversation they’d been having was obviously finished. Terry took a sip of his drink, and wondered how to play it. Normally he’d have been aggressive, he could take either of them easy, even with his stitches. But he didn’t say anything. So the three of them sat there, sipping in silence.

  Eventually the younger man, a fat lad called Duncan, spoke. ‘I don’t want to drink with you Terry. Sorry, but what you did was dead wrong.’

  ‘What did I do, then?’ said Walker, trying to sound friendly, like they were discussing a football match involving teams that neither of them supported.

  ‘Eleanor Barrow.’

  ‘She topped herself, Duncan mate. Nothing to do with me.’

  Walker saw Duncan’s eyes move, and sensed that there was someone behind him.

  ‘This bastard bothering you, lads?’ Walker didn’t turn. He knew it was Frostick.

  ‘Aye’ said Duncan. ‘We didn’t invite him to join us.’

  ‘Of course you didn’t, Duncan.’ Walker felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

  ‘I thought I told you, Walker? Which bit of fuck and off didn’t you understand, eh? Now what you’re going to do is get up nice and quiet, and go home, and start packing. You understand me? Don’t think that posh copper trying to mark my card makes any difference. We all want you out of here, and out of here you will go, one way or the other.’

  Walker could feel the anger building, but he felt powerless.

  ‘But I haven’t finished my drink.’ He could hear his wheedling tone, and he didn’t like it.

  ‘You haven’t got time for that. And don’t worry lads, I’ll make sure that glass goes straight in the bin after. We don’t want any right decent lads like you drinking from it, do we?’

  Walker felt the pressure on his shoulder reduce, and he started to get up. He wondered if he could get his glass smashed and the ragged edges into the side of Frostick’s big bald head before Frostick could do anything, but he doubted it. He still enjoyed the idea though.

  Thirty seconds later Walker was back on the street. Two of Frostick’s mates walked along behind him as he set off for home. One of those bastards in the bookies must have called Frostick and told him where he was. On the edge of town Walker stopped, and turned to face the two lads who were following him.

  ‘I can find my own way home, lads.’

  ‘Alan told us to see you home safe’ one of them said, smiling. ‘He said that he wanted to be the one to put you in the ground for what you done, personal like. He says he doesn’t want anyone else taking their chance first. Of course if you did try to have a go at us then we’d have to deal with you, right here and now.’

  ‘You can’t threaten me like this.’

  ‘No, I’ll think you’ll find we can, Walker. And we are.’

  When Terry Walker got in to the house he went straight upstairs. Kylie could tell from his tread that he was sober, and angry. She gave him twenty minutes before she went up to their bedroom.

  ‘No I didn’t get the bloody milk or the bread’ he said, when she opened the door.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll send one of the kids to the shop in a bit. Is everything all right, Terry love?’

  ‘It’s Frostick. He wants us out of here.’

  ‘He’s not the Housing Association though is he, Terry?’

  ‘It’s not just him. It’s all of them. Not a single one of my so-called fucking mates has been round since I got out of hospital, you noticed that?’

  ‘I expect they’re busy.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Some of them have jobs, don’t they? And look at you. You’re not working, but you’re still too busy to come to the kids’ sports days and that.’

  ‘I could talk to Nobby. He could sort it for me.’

  It was a long time since Kylie had been surprised by anything that Terry said.

  ‘Nobby? About what?’

  ‘I’m being intimidated here, Kylie. That’s not right, is it? I’ve done nowt to anyone.’

  ‘You’re thinking about grassing on Alan Frostick?’ Kylie sounded anxious, and she was.

  ‘Not grass, no, never. Not me. I was ju
st thinking about having a chat, see if Nobby can help at all.’

  ‘Do you think he’d want to?’

  Terry thought about it for a while. ‘Got to, hasn’t he? I could probably put in a complaint if he doesn’t do owt.’

  Kylie didn’t look convinced. ‘You know best, love, but why not sleep on it? This is our home too, remember that.’

  Terry sat up on the bed.

  ‘So you think this is all my fault too, do you?’

  ‘Of course not, love.’ Kylie tried to come up with someone or something else to blame, but she couldn’t. So she closed the door and went back downstairs.

  Tony Sheridan took Hall and Jane out for lunch.

  ‘This is nice’ said Hall, thinking that the place was actually a bit noisy and sterile looking.

  ‘The Super wanted me to say how grateful we are for everything you’ve done to help.’

  ‘But we haven’t laid a finger on Cafferty or any of his people. He’d have been more inconvenienced by a parking ticket.’

  ‘So you don’t think we’ll find Alison?’

  ‘Before he does? That depends on whether or not she wants to be found. And that’s why we want to understand her properly. Are you sure she wasn’t having a fling with Murphy?’

  ‘Pretty sure. They were being super, super discrete if they were.’

  ‘And nothing else in her private life?’

  ‘No. She was the most organised person I’ve ever come across. If she died tomorrow her affairs would be in perfect order, honestly.’

  ‘So blackmail then? Or possibly some other kind of threat?’

  ‘Both possible, and you’re welcome to go through everything we have on her, because we’re none the wiser. It just couldn’t be more out of character, getting involved in all this. She must have known how heavy-duty it was, right from the off.’

  ‘So our Super was doubly unlucky’ said Hall, ‘because it sounds like his judgement of her was essentially correct. She was as straight as a die, until whatever happened to change the habits of a lifetime. But tell me this, Tony, do you think she had an escape planned out? In case she was tumbled, I mean. If she’s that organised then she must have had, and that might tell us where she’s gone.’

 

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