by Michael Wood
Christian scoffed. ‘Not tall but not short. Not fat but not thin. I’d love to see how a court artist would draw that.’
‘It’s a shame he wasn’t approached by Francis Evans. You could write a thesis on how he looks. I’m sure his nose gets bigger every time I see him.’
‘Well, I’m going to get some lunch. I missed breakfast. You want anything?’
‘Not yet. We’ll have another go at Colin in an hour or so.’
‘No problem. I’ll be back by then.’
Christian left Matilda’s office, closing the door quietly behind him. He left the DCI to her thoughts. She turned in her chair and looked out of the window overlooking the depressing image of a city in decay. The clouds were heavy with the threat of rain pushing down on the steel city. Grey offices built in the sixties and seventies, some of them long since abandoned and left to the elements; soulless new apartment buildings and hotels designed by the same architect with no imagination, all built at speed to save money but wouldn’t last twenty years. There was so much wrong with Sheffield.
Matilda sighed. The longer she remained alone in her office the likelier her mind would fester. She should be concentrating on the double shooting and Colin Theobald’s surprising interview but her mind kept changing direction. The anniversary of James’s death was just a few days away. Carl Meagan has been missing for exactly a year – where was the little boy? Was he still in Sheffield being held against his will? There were plenty of abandoned buildings that hadn’t been touched for decades, could he be trapped in one of those? Or was his body in one of those buildings? Slowly rotting away as time slipped by.
‘Get a grip, Matilda,’ she said to herself. She eased herself up and went into the main part of the office.
‘Rory, I need a man,’ she said.
The young DC looked up with a worried expression on his face. ‘It’s a nice thought ma’am, but I’m engaged.’
Matilda laughed. ‘The look on your face was priceless, Rory. Thank you for that. No, I need you to get me some photos of men. Not mug shots, just happy family snaps.’
‘Where from?’
‘The Internet. Just print me off five or six photos.’
‘Do I dare ask why?’
‘Call it a social experiment.’
Sian entered the office carrying a large takeaway coffee and balancing a sandwich on top. ‘Glad I found you,’ she said to Matilda. ‘I’ve checked with the garage and they did have a convertible BMW in. According to the bloke who runs the place the car needed a tune-up. Lucas took it for a test drive and was pranged by another driver, apparently, so they’re doing the repair free of charge for the owner.’
‘Please don’t tell me it’s all fixed and ready to go.’
‘No. They’ve not even started it yet. I’m having it impounded for forensics to take a look at it. I saw the state of the car; it’s definitely been involved in a scrape. Let’s hope it matches Scott’s car.’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘I’m letting Lucas stew while I have my lunch. My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.’
‘That coffee smells nice, what is it?’
‘A peppermint latte.’
‘What’s wrong with the tea and coffee here?’
‘I’m guessing you’ve not had a coffee this morning. It was Rory’s turn to buy and he’s bought the cheap crap.’
‘I’m skint this month,’ Rory chimed up. ‘I’ve had to buy my season ticket. They’re not cheap you know.’
‘Has anyone seen Scott?’ Matilda asked, suddenly remembering she hadn’t seen him since morning.
‘He’s gone to the Northern General on his lunch to see how Joseph Glass is doing,’ Sian said.
‘Any news?’
‘None. He’s just not waking up. If he does I bet he’ll have brain damage. I can’t see him making a full recovery.’
‘As optimistic as ever, Sian. Can I help myself to a bar of chocolate?’
‘’Course you can. I just think, the longer he’s unconscious the less likely it’ll be for him to wake up and actually get back to normal.’
‘Poor sod. How’s the whip-round going?’
‘Very well. Got a few hundred already. I’m telling people notes only, no coins.’ Sian smiled.
‘Here are your photos,’ Rory said slapping six images printed on photo paper in front of the DCI.
Matilda picked them up and flicked through them. ‘These are great, Rory, thanks. Hang on a minute. Isn’t that Jonathan Ross with his family?’
‘Yes. I couldn’t find any others. You said you wanted a family man photo.’
‘How many family men do you know attend film premieres? I sometimes wonder what’s in that head of yours, Rory.’
As Matilda made her way down to the holding cells she came across Colin’s solicitor in reception.
‘Are you leaving?’ Matilda asked.
‘Just going to grab a bite to eat. No offence but your canteen doesn’t offer anything appetizing today.’
‘It never does. You are coming back though aren’t you?’
‘I most certainly am.’
‘I’m just off to see Mr Theobald now.’
‘Anything I should be privy to?’
‘It depends on the answer I get from him. I’ll see you later, Francis.’
‘You certainly will, my dear.’ He threw a flat cap on his large head and headed out of the double doors into the rapidly darkening afternoon.
Matilda watched him walk away before heading down to the cells.
Colin had just eaten lunch and had practically licked his plate clean. Facing a long sentence for murder, rape, attempted murder, aggravated burglary, and manslaughter had not affected his appetite at all.
‘I could eat that again,’ he told Matilda. ‘You don’t give large portions in here, do you?’
‘I’m sorry about that Mr Theobald. I’ll inform the chef. Look, Colin, about this bloke you said offered you ten grand to kill Kevin Hardaker …’
‘I know my description of him was shit but he really was an ordinary looking bloke.’
‘I’ve got some photographs I want you to look at.’ From the file she had under her arm, Matilda took out the photographs Rory had printed from the Internet for her, not including the one of Jonathan Ross, but definitely including the one from the files she was interested in. It was just a hunch and she really hoped she was wrong, but it was a question niggling at her brain and she needed it answered.
‘Well it’s definitely not him,’ he said handing back one of the pictures.
‘You seem sure.’
‘I don’t think Gordon Ramsay goes in for hiring hitmen.’
Matilda snatched it from him and looked at it. Bloody Rory Fleming, I’ll kill him.
‘This is him,’ Colin said, sitting up straight on his bed. ‘This is definitely the bloke.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely positive. Look, I know I said he was an ordinary bloke but you don’t forget the face of the man who offers you ten thousand quid to kill a man, do you?’
‘I suppose not.’ Matilda looked at the photo of the family man with his arms draped around two children. The look on his face was one of happiness: his smile was wide and beaming as he looked up to the camera. It was a snap from a warm summer’s day and everything seemed right with the world. Matilda was looking at him in a completely different light now. His smile no longer seemed innocent and dedicated to the upbringing of his children. He looked sinister and had the expression of a man with a miasma of dark thoughts running around his head.
‘Do you know him?’ Colin asked.
‘I’m afraid I do.’
FIFTY-THREE
‘Right everyone, listen up please.’
Matilda called the Murder Investigation Team to attention. Team. That was an understatement. It appeared that the ‘team’ was already being wound down and sent to different departments. Where were the uniformed officers who had been handling door-to-door enquiries? Wher
e were the civilian support staff who had been answering the phones?
‘The good news is that Colin Theobald has admitted to the burglaries. That will help free up some members of CID so maybe we can have a couple of their officers in here. He has also admitted to the double shooting of Kevin Hardaker and Lois Craven. However, he has stated that he didn’t act alone. He was paid to kill.’
‘Hired killers in Sheffield?’ Sian asked.
‘Originally he was asked by Lucas Branning to have a word with Kevin and stop him from having an affair and hurting his sister—’
‘Wait,’ Sian interrupted, ‘that doesn’t make any sense. How did Lucas know about the affair? Alice didn’t know until after Kevin was killed. So if Lucas paid Colin who told Lucas?’
‘Maybe Alice has been lying to us the whole time,’ Rory suggested.
The room fell silent. It was a very interesting question.
‘Lucas, how did you know about your sister’s affair?’
Lucas was sitting in his prison cell waiting to be processed and sent to magistrate’s court. He didn’t seem to be enjoying the experience as much as Colin Theobald was. He looked depressed and tired. His head was slumped on his chest and the red eyes and nose were evidence he had been crying. He had tried to go straight but circumstance hadn’t allowed it.
‘I was told.’
‘Who by?’
‘A man.’
‘Who?’
‘I’ve no idea. I just got home from work and this bloke came up to me. I got the feeling he’d been waiting. He told me Kevin had been having an affair with some bird and it had been going on for a while. I didn’t believe him at first. I mean, I didn’t really know Kevin all that well but Alice always seemed happy and everything. Then this bloke showed me a photo of Kevin and the woman he was seeing. They were in their car, kissing.’
‘So what did this man say to you?’ Matilda asked. She was growing impatient.
‘He said that Kevin needed someone to have a word with him, you know, sort him out.’
‘Why was he telling you all this?’
‘He said he knew I’d been in the nick and I must know people.’
‘And did you?’
Lucas looked down and played with his shaking fingers. He nodded. ‘There’s this bloke I used to share a cell with in Doncaster. I paid him a grand to give Kevin a bit of a hiding.’
‘Where did you get a thousand pounds from?’
‘I’ve been saving up for a better flat. I’ve not got much saved for a deposit but I could spare a grand and I knew Colin wouldn’t do it for free.’
‘Colin Theobald?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you speak to Colin after Kevin had been killed?’
‘No. When I found out what had happened I got scared. I told him just to give Kevin a bit of a slap, you know? I didn’t think he’d kill him and I definitely didn’t think he’d shoot him. Then he went and raped that woman. That wasn’t part of the plan.’
‘Why did you hide?’
‘I thought Colin would come and look for me, say he’d done the job proper, like, and ask for more money. I haven’t got any more money. I didn’t ask him to do this. I swear I didn’t. I just wanted Kevin to stop hurting my sister.’ Lucas lost his grip on his emotions and out poured a torrent of tears.
From the file under her arm Matilda produced the same photograph that Colin had identified in his cells.
‘Lucas, is this the man who told you about Alice’s affair?’
He looked up, sniffled, wiped his nose with his sleeve, and looked at the photo. He didn’t need long to make up his mind. He nodded. ‘That’s him. That’s the bloke.’
For a split second, Matilda almost felt sorry for him. Then she remembered that Lucas was the one responsible for putting Joseph Glass in hospital and the anger she felt towards him returned.
‘Lucas, why did you run Scott Andrews off the road?’
‘I wasn’t thinking straight. After what I’d done to that copper I knew you’d be after me. I watched while the ambulance came for him and that other copper, the blond one, followed in his car. I followed too. I waited all day for him to come out and when he did I just thought maybe if I could scare him he wouldn’t identify me to the police. I thought he wouldn’t have said anything yet as he’d been at the hospital all afternoon.’
‘So you ran him off the road?’
He nodded, shaking the tears from his face. ‘Is he all right?’
‘Why do you care?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No you’re not, Lucas,’ Matilda leaned in close, her face just inches away from the prisoner’s. ‘I’m going to make sure you’re jailed for a very long time.’
‘Are you sitting comfortably people?’
Matilda breezed into the Murder Room with a satisfied smile on her face. Her head was held high; her back was straight. She seemed ten feet tall in the wake of her triumph. Flicking through the file she extracted the photograph and placed it at the top of the whiteboard.
‘This is the man who orchestrated the killing of Kevin Hardaker and the attack on Lois Craven.’
Everyone leaned forward to get a good look at the family snap.
‘But that’s Martin Craven,’ Sian said.
‘Correct.’ Matilda stood to one side, arms folded.
‘He has a cast-iron alibi,’ Aaron commented.
‘Ah, I didn’t say he committed the crime. I said he orchestrated it.’
‘You’re going to have to talk us through this, boss.’
‘Which is why I asked if you were all sitting comfortably.’
Matilda filled them in on what she had found out from Colin and Lucas. Unfortunately, it was only their side of the story. She needed to hear it from Martin’s own lips. She wanted to know what turned a mild-mannered family man into a twisted manipulator. Lois may have treated him badly, but she didn’t deserve that. And neither did Kevin.
‘So where do we go from here?’ Sian asked.
‘We’re going to talk to Martin. However, if this is all true, then he’s a bit of a loose cannon. I don’t want to go in there not knowing what to expect. So, Sian, you come with me. Aaron, you, Scott and Rory stay in the background until we need you. Understand?’
Heads were nodded. Then coats were gathered. As they were leaving the Murder Room, Matilda almost ran into Christian Brady as she strode along the corridor.
‘Christian, will you do me a favour?’
‘You’ve saved me a massive headache with these burglaries, I’ll do anything you want,’ he smiled.
‘Well, we’ll talk about you donating your sperm at a later date.’ Christian’s smile dropped and a look of horror swept across his face. ‘I’m joking Christian, but thanks for hiding your repulsion so well. I want you to interview Colin Theobald again for me. Ask him about Gerald Beecham. Find out if he had anything to do with his death.’
‘Will do.’ The look of shock was still on his face as he headed past her down the corridor.
Over her shoulder, Matilda called out. ‘Maybe have a strong coffee first to calm your nerves.’
She laughed as she trotted to join the rest of her team. This was what Matilda enjoyed most about policing; when everything seemed to be going in the right direction and she knew what she had to do to reach the finishing line. If only she knew how much would change before she reached it.
FIFTY-FOUR
‘I didn’t think you were coming until tonight.’
‘I’ve had my compassionate leave extended. I thought I’d come and take you out.’
Lois’s eyes lit up. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. I’ve had a word with the nurses and they say a touch of fresh air may do you good. They’ve given me a wheelchair. Fancy a spin around the grounds?’
Martin smiled as he looked down on his wife who had been sitting up in bed and staring out of the window between the dust-covered slats of the ancient venetian blind.
Martin’s face was red and his eyes were bul
ging. He looked exhausted and downtrodden, yet determined and poised. His body was rigid. He could feel the ticks of emotion beating away in his face and neck, which he struggled to keep under control. He held on to the wheelchair tightly, his knuckles white with tension.
‘You’re going to have to help me out of bed; I’m still in a lot of pain,’ Lois said as she tried, but failed, to get out on her own.
Martin walked around the bed. He didn’t know how to hold his wife. He had seen her in the hospital gown – her entire body was covered in bruises. Now in pink pyjamas brought from home she looked fragile and timid. She put her arms around his neck and lifted herself up off the bed. He felt nothing as he touched her. Any last vestiges of love had been destroyed. The pain was evident from the excruciating look on her face. Carefully, Martin placed her in the wheelchair and covered her up with a blanket over her knees.
‘Are you comfortable?’
‘Despite being in agony, yes.’ She smiled through the pain.
‘Come on then, I’ve got a surprise for you outside.’
Colin Theobald said he didn’t want his solicitor present this time. ‘What’s the point? I’m going down anyway.’ The cold interview room was occupied by DI Christian Brady and DC Faith Easter on one side of the table and a self-satisfied Colin Theobald on the other. Despite confessing to the burglaries, his part in the double shooting, and facing a lengthy stretch in prison, he was full of bravado. Or was he still playing a part? Would the real Colin Theobald ever stand up?
‘Colin, you live on the twelfth floor of Tower B on London Road don’t you?’
‘I certainly do: flat 86.’
‘On the night of the double shooting, where did you go afterwards?’
A light turned on in Colin’s head: he knew where this conversation was heading. He sat back and smiled. ‘I went home.’
‘Straight home?’
‘Yep. I went to get changed.’
‘Then what did you do?’
‘I went out again. I needed to get rid of the clothes I’d been wearing. They were filthy and covered in blood,’ he said, savouring the last sentence and glancing at Faith Easter’s poker face.
