Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders)

by Salkeld, J J

  ‘Sorry, ma’am, our Super’s not here at the moment, so I’m in charge. Would you like to interview Alison Thornton here, or just get straight on your way?’

  It was obvious which McLeod would prefer.

  ‘We’d like to take a statement and charge her here. Has the duty solicitor been called?’

  ‘No, ma’am, but we can have one here in twenty minutes.’

  ‘Excellent. Meanwhile, is there a computer that I could use?’

  Gorham looked at Hall, as if expecting him to make the same request.

  ‘Is there somewhere we can pick up some sandwiches?’ Hall turned to the PC who’d driven them up. ‘I’m sure you could do with something too, couldn’t you, Dave? And how about you ma’am? Can I get you something?’

  Val Gorham looked at Hall as if eating during the day was somehow against procedure. But at least that explained why she never had crumbs on her uniform.

  ‘Would you like to lead ma’am?’ asked Hall, as he stood next to Gorham in the observation room.

  ‘No. I’m just here to observe.’

  ‘If I might ask, why did you want us to interview Alison Thornton here? It will cause some procedural complications.’

  ‘I’m surprised that you feel the need to ask that, Andy. There has been a major security breach at Kendal station, and I have no intention of risking another.’

  ‘You can’t seriously believe that Cafferty has infiltrated us again, or has had another source in the station throughout all this? I think that’s most unlikely.’

  ‘I’m sure you do, but we’ll do it my way. I hope that’s clear.’

  Alison Thornton looked frightened and pale.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ asked Hall, when she’d been cautioned and the tape was running.

  ‘Not too bad.’

  ‘Good, and if it’s any comfort you were absolutely right to come here, Alison. Your flat was turned over this morning. Any idea by whom?’

  ‘I saw two men in a car outside. I told the DI I saw earlier.’

  ‘So why were they looking for you?’

  ‘Because they wanted to kill me.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘Because it was me who passed on the information about Neil Williams’ real identity.’

  ‘And how did you come by that information?’

  ‘I saw it in a file in Superintendent Robinson’s office.’

  ‘And did you have any help, either from inside or outside the station?’

  ‘No, I was on my own.’

  ‘Did Superintendent Robinson help you?’ asked Val Gorham.

  ‘No. No, I just told you. I didn’t have any help.’

  ‘Did you ask to him to open the safe? To leave the room?’

  ‘No, he knew absolutely nothing about it.’

  ‘Who did you tell?’ asked Hall, glancing across at Gorham, who nodded slightly.

  ‘I’d rather not say.’

  ‘That’s up to you’ said Hall, ‘but I’m sure that your solicitor has explained that the courts will take a very different view of your case, depending on whether you co-operate with us fully or not.’

  ‘I have explained the position’ said the solicitor. ‘But, since I understand that any charge will be brought south of the border, and because my client is facing potentially serious charges I have suggested that she offer no comment at this stage, in any matter relating to third party involvement in the passing on of any information concerning the identity of Mr. Williams.’

  ‘I understand’ said Hall. ‘So let’s just confirm what happened. You have been working for Safe Security Specialists as an accountant.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And you applied to Cumbria Constabulary to become a Special Constable with the explicit intention of becoming a mole, by which I mean your intention was to gain unlawful access to information concerning the whereabouts and new identity of Neil Williams?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘I was asked to, by the person who I’ve been advised not to name at this time.’

  ‘Asked to? Why didn’t you just say no?’

  ‘I couldn’t. I was threatened.’

  ‘You feared for your safety?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And were explicit threats made?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So why didn’t you come to the Police?’

  ‘I was frightened.’

  ‘Were any other inducements made, or offered?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So you acted as you did purely out of fear for your own safety?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘I’m sorry Alison, but that’s not very convincing. All you had to do was to inform Superintendent Robinson, or any officer come to that, and you would have been safe. You could have done it as soon as you reached Kendal Police station. So why didn’t you?’

  ‘I’ve already told you, I’d been threatened. And I didn’t believe that I’d get proper protection later if I did.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Everyone knows that the Police don’t protect witnesses properly. That’s what powerful criminals rely on, isn’t it?’

  ‘You think it’s a matter of economics, of accountancy if you like. Is that it?’

  ‘In a way, yes.’

  ‘So what did you do when you found out Williams’ new identity?’

  ‘I phoned my contact, using a phone I’d been provided with.’

  ‘And when was this?’

  ‘A few days before Williams was killed.’

  ‘Do you remember exactly which day it was?’

  ‘The Thursday or Friday before I think.’

  ‘Do you believe that the information that you provided resulted in Williams’ death?’

  For the first time there was a pause before Alison answered. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘What I think isn’t relevant here, Alison. What do you think?’

  ‘Yes’ she said quietly. ‘He was killed because of the information that I provided.’

  ‘Did your contact ever mention another person who was providing information?’

  ‘No. Was there? That would be fantastic. I’d feel so much better.’

  Hall was watching her reaction closely, and hoped that Gorham was too. He was certain that Alison didn’t have an accomplice.

  ‘I’m afraid not, Alison. We’re confident that it was you who sentenced Neil Williams to death. How does that make you feel?’

  ‘Terrible. I think about it all the time. But they made me do it.’

  ‘So you’re saying that you’re a victim too?’

  Again Alison hesitated. ‘I should have said something, you’re right. But I was frightened. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ve never been in any trouble in my life. I’m not a criminal, am I?’

  And that, thought Hall, was Alison’s future defence in a nutshell. Did he believe her? Absolutely not. But would a jury? Quite possibly. Because unless Murphy talked, which wouldn’t happen even if hell froze over, or evidence of a some financial inducement was found, a dozen ordinary folks might well buy her story. Give her six months on remand and Alison would probably be believing it herself.

  ‘You’ve been cautioned, and we’ll have discussions with the CPS about what charges to bring after those discussions. Is there anything else that you’d like to tell me at this stage?’

  ‘Can I ask something?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Will I be remanded in custody?’

  ‘Well that depends on what you’re charged with. But if it’s conspiracy to murder then I’d expect you would be.’

  ‘And would I get any protection?’

  ‘That’s not really a matter for me, but under circumstances like these some prisoners feel safer in solitary confinement, for their own protection.’

  ‘Solitary.’

  Hall had seen that look before, but not often. He didn’t enjoy it when he did. But it wasn’t every day
that a first-time offender was arrested for a serious offence. Usually charging offences, even serious ones, was a fairly familiar transaction to both sides. It felt almost routine. But not this time. It was all new to Alison, and it was so obviously terrifying.

  ‘Look, Alison, I’m going to terminate this interview in a moment, unless Superintendent Gorham has anything to add.’ She shook her head. ‘In that case, Alison, we’ll take you back down to Kendal now, and then you’ll be able to chat with your solicitor, and then we’ll talk again. But don’t get your hopes up about the charges that you’re likely to face. You’ve admitted to being a prime mover in a man’s death, and that is the gravest of matters, I’m afraid.’

  Wednesday, 29th May

  Ian Mann had known Alan Frostick since primary school. As he sat in the pub waiting for him, a glass of mineral water in front of him, he remembered Frostick as a child, chasing the other kids round the playground, then helping himself to their sweets. Mann was a year or two younger, and at first he complied with Frostick’s demands. And then his mum died.

  It was only a day or two after the funeral that he and his brothers went back to school, and only another day after that before Frostick came looking for his usual tribute. Ian Mann had reached into his pocket to hand over his chocolate, which his mum must have bought just before she died, when something made him stop.

  ‘No’ he said.

  ‘No what? Your brothers aren’t here, Mann, they’re already back inside. So give me your treat. You must have one, or is your dad drinking your pocket money away as well now?’

  As he sat there Ian Mann could still feel how it had felt to hit Frostick, and how it had felt to take a few back. When the teacher pulled them apart it was clear that Frostick, despite being several inches taller, had come off much worse, and the other kids knew it too. From then on Alan Frostick had left Ian Mann alone, and for a while in his early teens Mann had been as out of control as Frostick. But Mann had joined the army, then the Police, while Frostick had spent the last twenty odd years in pubs, on a battered brown sofa in his flat, and driving around town in an increasingly expensive series of cars.

  When he’d looked at Frostick’s file that morning Mann was surprised to see that he had finally started to move up in the criminal world. He’d been mentioned a couple of times in surveillance reports, and the intelligence team had him on their long-list, making him one of the fifty or so top targets in the county. Mann hadn’t thought he had it in him. But he’d spoken to the coppers on the ground, something that he wished Andy Hall would do occasionally, and a pretty clear picture emerged. Frostick had filled a vacuum in terms of the local drugs business, and was just beginning to move completely away from street-level dealing himself. And word was he’d given a pusher who’d stepped out of line a bad beating only a week or two before.

  Mann watched, amused, as one of Frostick’s boys, a fat kid called Bennett who Mann had first pinched for stealing a skateboard years before, walked in to the pub and had a look round. A minute later Frostick came in, another one of his lads just behind him.

  ‘Can I buy you a drink, Ian?’ he said when he came over.

  ‘No, let me.’

  ‘What have I done to deserve it?’

  ‘I hear that you had a word with Terry Walker.’

  ‘Oh that. Aye, I heard that someone gave him a bit of a doing.’

  Mann got up. ‘What’s it to be? And don’t worry, this is just a friendly chat, like.’

  ‘I’ll have what you’re having.’

  ‘You know its water?’

  ‘Aye. But I’m working.’

  ‘Does the Social know?’

  Frostick smiled.

  ‘I haven’t signed on in months, mate.’

  Mann walked to the bar, bought a mineral water for Frostick and two soft drinks for his lads.

  ‘I wasn’t sure if they were old enough’ he said, and Frostick laughed.

  ‘So what can I do for you then, Sergeant?’

  ‘Nothing. Like I said, just a chat. First of all, about Terry Walker and his family.’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Leave him alone, all right? He’s had his lesson and he virtually wrote his own charge sheet when we nicked him. He’ll be away for a year or two now.’

  ‘Aye, we heard he was absolutely shitting himself.’

  ‘He was, but that’s it, OK? You’ve made your point. And if he so much as cuts himself shaving between now and when he comes to trial it’ll be you we come to see first. Of course, if he lives in fear of what might happen but never does, well that’s not something we can do anyone for, is it?’

  ‘You mean like what he did to Eleanor?’ Frostick looked thoughtful. ‘Leave it with me. And what would I get in return?’

  ‘A heads-up, the only one you’re ever going to get from me. You’ve been coming to the notice of my bosses lately, Alan, especially the ones who look after the drugs job. They think you’ve gone from being a tiny little minnow to being a slightly larger minnow.’

  Mann remembered that Frostick’s fuse had always been short.

  ‘Fuck off, Sergeant Mann. You’ve got nothing on me, or you’d have nicked me.’

  ‘That’s not entirely true, but you’re right, I’ve not got enough to nick you today. But I wanted you to know that I’ve been given you as a kind of special project. Just thought I’d let you know.’

  ‘And what do you expect me to do? Turn over a new fucking leaf or something? Take up cake making?’

  ‘That’s up to you, Alan. Every day brings a new decision, a new direction. If you want it, like.’

  ‘Not for me it doesn’t. And if it wasn’t me you were after it would just be someone else. Until certain substances are legalised there’ll always be people like me. I’m a service industry, like satellite TV and take-aways. Folk just couldn’t do without us.’

  ‘Have it your own way, but you mark my words. Within six months you’ll be inside for a proper stretch, and someone else will be running your little tiny empire. Maybe even one of your lads here. How’s the cola, son? Sweet enough for you is it?’

  Frostick got up quickly, and Mann could see that his fists were clenched. He stayed where he was, but he knew exactly what he’d do if Frostick tried anything.

  ‘You don’t scare me, Ian. You’re still just a blubbering kid who’s lost his mum. All that SAS shit is bollocks. And you think your gang’s stronger than mine, now you’re a copper, but it’s not. You’re weak. There aren’t enough of you any more, and your mates have got no real will to win. We see them every day, and we’re winning. You just mark my words. We’re winning.’

  Val Gorham seemed to be summoning Andy Hall every hour, on the hour. She’d also insisted on sitting in on every meeting with the DPP, and then having a post-meeting-meeting as well. As he sat there waiting for Gorham to look up from the latest DPP charging proposal Hall noticed how compressed her blonde bun of hair was. He wondered how she did it.

  ‘So they’re saying that Alison is going guilty on conspiracy, and giving up Pat Murphy, in return for a reduced sentence.’

  ‘Yes. She’ll draw about eight years, but she’ll do less than four, and half of that in an open prison. Afterwards she will get a modest package. Apparently she’s intimated that she wants to go to Italy afterwards.’

  ‘Out of the frying pan into the fire I’d have thought.’

  ‘I’m not sure that organised crime has its own version of Europol, but I know what you mean. She’d be easy to find I’d have thought, but I suppose they’d need to know where to look.’

  ‘And has Murphy been picked up?’

  ‘Yes. Tony Sheridan called me earlier. He’s been charged as well, but needless to say he’s not saying a thing. Tony says that they’ll do everything they can to connect the killing all the way back to Cafferty, but they’re not hopeful. Murphy will take the fall, and the time, if he has to.’

  ‘Cafferty chooses his lieutenants well.’

  ‘Probably, and then frig
htens them even more effectively. Murphy will be under absolutely no illusions. And the DPP says that a conviction is actually far from certain anyway. They’re saying not much over fifty-fifty. There’s even a possibility it won’t come to trial at all.’

  Superintendent Gorham closed the file slowly.

  ‘Well done, Andy. This is an excellent result for us, and for the station.’

  ‘You think so, ma’am? We haven’t arrested Williams’ killer, and the person who procured the information about him, knowing full well what would happen, will get a relatively short sentence. Murphy may well get away with it entirely too, and as for Cafferty, well he’s the big winner here. He just stuck two big fat fingers up at us, and we can’t touch him for it.’

  Gorham looked slightly confused, then mildly irritated.

  ‘That’s not the right way to look at this at all, Andy. It really isn’t. What we’re looking at here is a 100% clear up rate on a murder and the conspiracy. And we’ve got no bad smells hanging around the station either. You really do need to rise above the day-to-day business of policing and look at the bigger picture. I like to call it my helicopter perspective, Andy.’

  ‘Yes ma’am, I’m sure you do.’

  When Nobby Style’s shift was over he got changed quickly, and he almost ran to his car. He reached the hospital at half-four, and was sitting next to Gemma’s bed by twenty to five. He’d been every other day since she was admitted, and he’d fallen into a bit of a pattern. He’d tell her about his day, sit quietly for five minutes, then pat her hand and go. He’d got to know a couple of the nurses, so he sometimes chatted to them.

  As he was walking back to his car afterwards he saw a familiar figure ahead of him, standing next to his car.

  ‘All right, Ray, what are you doing here? Visiting someone? You’d better hurry, it’s almost tea time.’

  ‘No, Nobby. I came to see you mate.’

  ‘Oh aye. What about?’