Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)

by Salkeld, J J

  ‘I’d say she would have as well’ said Jane. ‘But if that’s right, then why did she end up doing that strange loop back into Cumbria on the day she bolted? Grange isn’t exactly the best place for a fugitive to vanish, is it? So did she meet someone, either there or maybe afterwards, before she put her plan in to practice?’

  ‘We’ve got no evidence of that’ said Tony Sheridan. ‘I’d lay odds that she was acting completely alone, and still is.’

  ‘Tell you what’ said Hall, ‘let’s just enjoy our lunch for now, and then me and Jane will take another look through everything you’ve got on Alison. By the way, had she been on holiday recently?’

  ‘I don’t know’ said Sheridan. ‘That’s a good idea. Maybe she has a regular haunt. We can check when we get back.’

  But when they got back to the office they all forgot to ask, and even if they had it wouldn’t have helped them find Alison Thornton, or even to understand her motive. Because the small Italian villa that she now owned wasn’t in her name, and no money had passed through her bank account. And on that particular afternoon it was actually warmer in Liverpool than it was in Sienna, and a cold wind was blowing ripples on the surface of the empty swimming pool.

  Monday, May 20th

  Ian Mann had to force himself not to arrive too early at work, but he needn’t have worried about looking too much like the new boy. It took him twenty minutes to get through the car park and past the front desk, because everyone wanted a word, and to say how pleased they were to see him back. In Mann’s experience good coppers make bad bullshitters, so he reckoned that the best wishes were sincere. But he didn’t expect the Super to be anything like as pleased to see him back.

  In fact, Robinson was fine, although he seemed rather distracted. He returned Mann’s Warrant Card without ceremony, went through the various points that HR had asked him to make, including the date of his psychological evaluation, and then he asked what Mann would be working on.

  ‘I think the DI wants me to take a fresh look at the Alison Thornton thing, see if I notice anything.’

  Robinson nodded sadly. ‘I’m afraid that particular bird has flown, worse luck.’

  Despite being suspended Mann knew all about Robinson’s involvement in Alison’s recruitment as a Special, but he knew better than to say as much.

  ‘Well I mustn’t keep you, Ian, and welcome back. I must be honest and tell you that your chances of any further promotion have undoubtedly been damaged by what happened at the Abbey, and the death of those two men will remain on your conscience, I’m sure.’

  Mann was tempted to say something, but he didn’t. Some of his officers in the Marines had been right toffee-nosed tossers, and he’d soon learned when to keep his mouth shut. He could feel his Warrant Card back in his pocket, where it should be, and he’d have forgotten anything that the Super said before he was out of the door anyway. So he nodded non-commitally, and made for the door.

  Mann knocked on Andy Hall’s office door, and they met half way to the desk. Hall was beaming, and holding out his hand.

  ‘You’ve made the right decision, Ian.’

  ‘Aye. The Federation bloke said that you were ready to go to war for me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it like that. I was just telling the truth.’

  ‘Even though it wasn’t what the bosses wanted to hear?’

  ‘Maybe. Anyway, welcome back. I expect you’re ready to get straight back into it?’

  ‘I am. I thought you wanted me to look at the Thornton file.’

  ‘Actually, I’ve had second thoughts about that. How about the Eleanor Barrow suicide?’

  ‘Aye. If you want.’ Mann’s expression gave nothing away.

  Hall slid a file across the table. ‘Review it by all means. But let me know before you talk to anyone, especially the Walkers. And you need to be realistic here, Ian. We’d charge Terry Walker with anything that the CPS gave us even half a chance of winning, but you know the story. He’s the original neighbour from hell, to the power of ten, but that’s never enough. So unless you can show me a clear causal link between Walker’s behaviour and his interactions with Eleanor and what happened to her and Gemma, then we can’t do a thing.’

  Mann nodded. ‘Leave it with me, and thanks for giving me the chance. I appreciate it, Andy. So what’s this I hear about you and Jane?’

  Hall smiled. He’d expected this. ‘Blimey, Ian, you’ve only been back five minutes and you’re already across all the office gossip.’

  ‘Office gossip? Talk of the town it is, buddy. I was surprised it wasn’t in the Gazette on Friday, honest I was.’

  ‘Very funny, Ian, but haven’t you got work to do?’

  ‘I’m on my way. But good on Jane, she got there in the end. I knew she would.’

  ‘What are you talking about Ian?’

  Mann laughed. ‘It doesn’t matter. But I bet she’s always gone for the librarian type.’

  ‘Librarian? Bollocks. Man of action, I am. You saw the way I tackled those two at the Abbey.’

  ‘I did. It’s just a good thing that Jane didn’t. It was like watching a couple of....’ Mann tailed off.

  Hall laughed. ‘Yes, Ian, a couple of what?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter’ said Mann, getting up.

  ‘So your time in the wilderness has taught you something anyway. And at least we won’t have to send you on another diversity and inclusiveness day this time, Ian.’

  Mann gave his boss a two fingered salute as he left the room.

  Alison Thornton had made a list, and that made her feel better. But then having a list always had that effect on her. At the top she’d written ‘job?’ and below that ‘new identity’, and she decided to start with that. She vaguely remembered that some people adopted the identities of dead babies, and ordered up copies of their birth certificates as a precursor to getting all of the other documents that the state required as proof of existence. But she reasoned that if she knew about it then surely that avenue must have been closed years before.

  Any contact with the criminal underworld was out of the question, because Alison had already learned that the phrase ‘honour amongst thieves’ was most definitely no longer true, if it ever had been. So she’d have to do her own research, and see what could be accomplished. She walked to the library in the middle of the city, and sat down at one of the computers. An assistant asked if she needed any help getting online, and Alison said she didn’t.

  ‘What is it you’re looking for, family history is it?’

  ‘In a way, yes.’

  ‘We get that a lot. Everyone wants to know where they’re from, don’t they? More than where they’re going to, some of them.’

  Alison smiled and the young woman got the hint.

  ‘Just ask if there’s anything I can help you with.’

  Alison was careful about what she searched for, but she hoped to be able to find out all she needed in one visit. One of her cousins had been killed in a road accident in childhood, well over twenty years before, and Alison thought that she could pass for thirty five. Getting hold of a copy of her cousin’s birth certificate wasn’t hard, and in twenty minutes it was ordered. Then Alison looked at how to get an NI number. And that was harder, because she’d have to go for an interview. And she didn’t like the sound of that.

  When she’d finished at the library Alison went to a coffee shop, and sat in a window seat. It was still dry and quite sunny, but it was getting windy now, and everyone she saw seemed to be hurrying somewhere. Even the students looked like they were getting a move on.

  Alison found herself watching the women in particular, especially the ones of about her own age, talking on mobiles, or walking along with male colleagues. She wondered what jobs they did, and something about many of them reminded Alison of herself. Did they look happy? She decided that she had no idea at all, but she knew for certain that she envied them.

  Afterwards she thought about exploring her options in terms of opening a current account, and she wal
ked round the main banks, picking up their literature. She thought that the Post Office might offer a simple current account, so she picked up the paperwork from there too. Maybe that would turn out to be a weak link.

  As she walked back to the flat, across the Meadows, she realised that she’d have to take some substantial risks if she was to establish a new identity successfully. But that would be tomorrow’s problem, and she enjoyed the walk, stopping for a minute to watch a group of people playing what she thought must be baseball out on the grass. For some reason she glanced back along the path in the direction she’d come, and although there were plenty of people walking both ways along the path one man caught her eye. Maybe he looked away as she turned, maybe he didn’t seem to be going one way or the other, but whatever it was she noticed him, and she felt the fear rising immediately.

  She walked quickly, back towards her flat, under the whale’s jawbone and across at the lights. But rather than walk to her flat she made for the convenience store a couple of streets away. She went in and bought some milk. Then she walked back to the door and looked out. The man was nowhere to be seen. But Alison was taking no chances, and she walked around the quiet, late morning streets until her feet ached.

  She was almost certain that no-one was behind her. In fact she was almost certain that the man she’d seen hadn’t been following her at all. It can’t have been the Police, because they’d have arrested her by now if they knew where she was, and would Billy Cafferty really have the resources to find her so fast? It seemed unlikely, but she couldn’t be more than almost certain. And for the first time she understood that, from this moment on, she’d never be absolutely sure of anything ever again.

  Nobby Styles hadn’t walked past Eleanor’s house since it had happened, but he’d promised himself he’d do it that shift. So he did, though he tried not to look at Eleanor’s front door as he passed. When he heard his name being called he started to turn, but then he realised who it was, and he kept walking. Terry Walker ran along the pavement after him in his slippers.

  ‘Don’t be like that, Nobby. I’ve got something for you.’

  ‘Is it your head on a plate?’

  ‘Come in a minute, and I’ll tell you. It’s worth your while, honest.’

  When Styles walked into the Walker’s hall he was aware of the silence. It seemed to be seeping through the wall from next door. The TV was off in the Walkers’ place too, and Nobby wondered briefly if it might be broken. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in. Walker went in to the living room and sat down, but Styles stayed on his feet near the door. He had no intention of hanging around any longer than he had to.

  ‘You know I’m having a few problems with Alan Frostick?’

  Styles smiled. ‘Really? You should report that.’

  ‘I’m entitled to proper protection.’

  ‘What you’re entitled to, Terry, is exactly the same amount of protection that we were able to give to Eleanor and Gemma. And you know how much that was?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Fuck all, Terry, that’s what. So you’ll get the same from me. Frostick’s an animal, like you Terry, only much, much stronger. And if he rips you into little pieces one night quite soon, and the word is that he will, then that’s your problem.’

  ‘You want him though, don’t you?’

  ‘You mean do we want to nick him? Of course we do. But you don’t know enough to be of any use.’

  ‘I know everything about the drugs on here, on the estate like.’

  ‘Give over, Terry. Everyone knows that Frostick has moved in on that game. You’re a total waste of space, Terry, but you’re a clean waste of space. Drugs aren’t your thing. It’s the only good thing I could say about you.’

  ‘But I know the lot. Who’s supplying him, when it comes in, everything.’

  Nobby thought about what Terry had said. There was something he wasn’t seeing. Then it came to him. ‘Your lads are working for him. Is that it? Terry, you are a stupid, selfish bastard. So what you’re saying is that you’re willing to grass up Alan Frostick and drop your own lads in it, just to get him off your back. Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘My lads don’t grass.’

  ‘No-one will believe that, Terry. Frostick will think it was them for sure. But go on then, tell me what you know.’

  ‘I want something in return.

  ‘Oh aye? Some sort of badge was it?’

  ‘Don’t talk daft. Witness protection, all that.’

  Nobby laughed. And when he saw the look of surprise on Terry’s face he laughed harder.

  ‘Terry, you’re not in that league. Nowhere near. The best you can hope for is a one-way bus ticket to Carlisle.’

  ‘You can’t decide that, Nobby. You’re just a PC.’

  Nobby was still chuckling. ‘That’s true, Terry. It’s not my call. So I’ll ask, but I can tell you now what the bosses will say. If you want us to help you you’re going to have to find another way. Because supergrass material you are not.’

  Nobby turned to the door. He was still smiling.

  ‘What’s up with you? What’s so bloody funny?’

  ‘Do you know what irony is, Terry? ‘Course you don’t. Well it’s the irony of your situation that I’m enjoying here, Terry.’

  Walker looked blank.

  ‘You made Eleanor’s life a misery, and now Alan Frostick is doing the same to you. That’s ironic, that is.’

  ‘It’s not the same thing at all. I didn’t beat Eleanor up, did I? Never touched her, on my kids’ life.’

  Nobby turned. He wasn’t smiling now.

  ‘You’re a nasty little bastard, Terry, and I hope you get what’s coming to you. The only reason you didn’t actually ever hit Eleanor was because you knew that if we found so much as a mark on her we’d have nicked you. Scum like you know the system too well, Terry, that’s all it’s down to.’

  ‘I know the system well enough to know you can’t call me scum, or turn a blind eye to Alan Frostick. I’m going to report you.’

  ‘You do that, Terry. It’ll be your word against mine, just as it was yours against Eleanor all those times. That’s more irony, that is. And I’d be nice to me if I were you, because if Alan Frostick were to hear about our conversation then I wouldn’t give you much of a chance. They’d find you right down at the bottom of Wastwater, along with the garden gnomes.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Look it up. ‘

  ‘On what? One of my lads broke the bloody computer. I can’t even have a bet online now.’

  ‘My heart bleeds, Terry. Next you’ll be telling me that the butler’s off sick and all.’

  Nobby was back on the street and trying to get Terry out of his mind when he saw Kylie walking towards him. She looked slightly lopsided because of the shopping she was carrying, and for the first time Nobby noticed how thin she was getting. She’d been a fine looking lass when she was younger, thought Nobby. They chatted for a minute or two.

  ‘I’ve just seen your Terry.’

  ‘Oh aye’ Kylie said carefully.

  ‘Take my tip love, and get you and the two youngsters away from here for a week or two. Leave Terry and his lads to it for a bit, eh?’

  She put her shopping down, and looked up at Nobby.

  ‘You haven’t got a clue, have you, Nobby? That’s never going to happen.’

  ‘I was just trying to help, that’s all.’

  ‘Just keep Alan Frostick away from us if you can. But I’m wasting my breath, aren’t I, Nobby? You can’t do a thing to protect us, any more than you could protect Eleanor and Gemma. You’re a waste of space, Nobby, and I need to get home. I don’t want to be seen with you.’

  Nobby Styles stood aside and watched Kylie walk away. He could see the handle of one of the bags digging into her right hand, but he didn’t offer to help. She’d made her bed with Terry, and now she’d have to lie in it, whatever happened.

  ‘Kylie’ he called out, and she stopped and turned towards him. ‘Do me a f
avour, love, and get Terry to screw your letterbox closed, and keep your doors and windows locked when you’re at home. OK? It’d be for the best, love.’

  Kylie nodded slowly, then turned, and walked away.

  Wednesday, 22nd May

  Ian Mann felt as if he’d never been away. He was glad to be back, absolutely no question about that, but he was already beginning to remember the things that irritated him about the job. His colleagues’ terrible parking, Ray Dixon’s tea, his whistling, Mann’s lopsided office chair. And he was glad he’d just felt normal when he’d come in that morning. It was just a shift like any other.

  Mann had arranged to review the Eleanor Barrow file with Andy Hall at half-eight, and he had no great expectation of changing Hall’s view, let alone that of the CPS. But he owed it to Eleanor to try. And he knew that Hall would give him as long as he needed to. It had been Hall’s decision to give him the file after all.

  ‘So what do you think?’ asked Hall, when they were settled in his office.

  ‘Do you know how many times Eleanor Hall called us out, since she moved in next door to the Walkers in 2007?’

  ‘Twenty-odd wasn’t it?’

  ‘Thirty one, of which a dozen were in the last twelve months. Walker’s behaviour was getting worse and worse. It’s obviously a hate crime, Andy, no doubt about it.’

  ‘But how many cautions, and how many prosecutions were there, Ian?’