Gallows Drop

by Mari Hannah

  Atkins exploded, his colour rising. ‘What the hell is she doing?’

  Beth turned towards the window, listening to more of the conversation than she should. Through his reflection in the window she watched him get more and more agitated. It was all she could do not to vomit there on the carpet. She ran upstairs to her room and locked the door.

  They knew.

  11

  For a while, Elsdon village had been overrun with police cars and vans. Photographs and videos had been taken. Officers in full forensic kit had crawled on their hands and knees conducting a fingertip search. When they were done, they climbed into their vehicles and drove off in convoy to complete their work elsewhere, each collected item now on its way for forensic examination.

  Kate lifted her hands to ward off an attack as Atkins strode towards her, spitting orders to anyone who’d listen. She’d seen him angry like this before and got in first before he could open his mouth. She spoke quietly and calmly, hoping to take the temperature down and avoid a public slanging match. She might have known it was a big ask.

  ‘Don’t be difficult,’ she said. ‘I tried telling you. You weren’t bloody interested. What was I supposed to do? Stand around like a spare part for the next two days? As I said before, we’re on the same side. I’ll be out of your hair soon.’

  ‘You just happened to be passing when this information fell in your lap, I suppose.’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘And you felt duty bound to follow it up.’

  ‘You’re doing OK so far.’ Elsdon was off the beaten track in the middle of nowhere. They both knew that she’d done nothing of the kind.

  ‘You expect me to believe that?’

  ‘Frankly,’ Kate said, ‘I don’t give a toss what you believe.’

  Grant wandered up before the SIO said any more. Atkins turned towards him with a look that could kill a man. ‘What?’ he barked.

  ‘Locals seem nervous, sir.’ ‘Welcome to the sticks.’

  ‘Jesus!’ Kate said. ‘It’s hardly the West End!’

  The SIO scowled at her, his expression a throwback to an earlier time when she had no alternative but to let him call the shots.

  He still thought he could scare her . . .

  He was wrong then . . .

  He’s wrong now.

  ‘Can I get rid of the tape, sir?’ Grant was trying his level best to deflect yet another row. ‘The locals are keen to reclaim their village.’

  ‘Forensics got what they want?’ Atkins asked.

  ‘They’re all done,’ Hank replied.

  Atkins rounded on him. ‘Did I ask you?’

  Grant stepped in between them. ‘They’ve taken casts of all the necessary tyre tracks and footprints. Samples have been lifted, items of interest bagged and logged. There were various bits of debris found in the surrounding area. Hopefully, some of it’ll be of use to us—’

  ‘All of which may have been discarded moons ago,’ Atkins countered.

  ‘The vicar says not,’ Kate added quickly. ‘There’s a group of volunteers who litter-pick on a regular basis. They did so on Friday to ensure the village had its best face on. The show brings in many visitors from home and abroad. The locals like it nice.’

  ‘Do they?’ Atkins’ tone was scornful.

  Eyeing a group of hopeful villagers, Grant laid a hand on the police tape, itching to take it down. ‘We’ve got all we need, sir.’

  ‘Let’s not be too hasty.’ Atkins was looking for an excuse to throw his weight around.

  Kate bit down so hard her jaw nearly locked.

  She turned to Hank and Grant. ‘Guys, give us a moment, will you?’

  The two men walked away mumbling about a situation no one but Atkins had authority to change, unless Kate could talk some sense into him.

  ‘You’re wasting your breath trying to change my mind,’ he said when the others were out of earshot. ‘Until this lot start giving up their secrets, the road remains closed.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You have one “uncommunicative” witness—’

  ‘Well, at least we have one. What do you have?’ The question was rhetorical and Kate was already asking a second. ‘Have you any idea of the inconvenience it will cause to people who live here if you leave the roadblock in place?’ Again she didn’t give him the opportunity to respond. ‘Of course you do, you used to live here. Why are you being awkward? You won’t find any rubberneckers here. These are law-abiding locals. Discreet. Don’t tar them with the same brush as those you encounter in the city. They’re worlds apart—’

  ‘They’re not so different. The road remains closed.’

  ‘Give me one good reason.’

  ‘Because I say so,’ he barked.

  Kate wasn’t finished. ‘Think of the logistics. Imagine the detour villagers will have to make if you leave a roadblock in place. It’ll take them hours to get in and out. If you’re so keen to play SIO, try acting like one. Stop and think, for once in your life. If you don’t put yourself out to talk to locals and show some cooperation, they sure as hell won’t talk to you. If you’re not here in their midst, visible to them, you can’t expect to be kept up to date with their thoughts and fears, the fact that there’s a few bad apples around here – and there obviously are. In case it passed you by, there are no beat officers on the street any more. How long do you think it’s been since a copper, or even a bloody PSO stopped by? Look around you. There’s no CCTV. You’re going to have to pull the stops out to crack this one. If you don’t get along with the residents, you’re not going to get along. Period. So use a little give and take.’

  Hank was back.

  ‘Willis now thinks the assault was videoed.’

  ‘How come?’ Kate asked.

  ‘He remembers seeing a dot of light – may or may not have been a mobile phone camera.’ Hank had addressed his comment to Kate, disregarding Atkins completely. The fact that he was technically in charge of the case didn’t come into it. In Hank’s book, respect was something you earned. It went both ways, or not at all, a sentiment Kate agreed with wholeheartedly.

  ‘I thought Willis heard but didn’t see?’ she said.

  Atkins raised an eyebrow, a smug expression on his face. ‘What was that you said about the good people of Elsdon? Do me a favour!’ He shifted his focus from Kate to Hank. ‘Be very careful, DS Gormley. On this enquiry, I’m your SIO. You’d do well to remember that. How many does Willis think were involved?’

  Hank had no choice but to respond. ‘A good few,’ he said. ‘Seven, eight. Interestingly, he heard a lass’s voice among the lads.’

  ‘Sounds to me like he’s making it up as he goes along.’ Atkins levelled his eyes at Kate. ‘So much for your credible witness.’

  He was smirking as walked away. With their eyes on his back, he pulled up sharp, pausing for effect. Then he turned around and marched back towards them. ‘Just in case you’re in any doubt,’ he said, ‘the roadblock stays.’

  12

  ‘Personally, I don’t think he should be heading up this case.’ Kate got in her car and slammed the door, almost taking it off its hinges. ‘A, he used to live round here and B, he has no respect and not the first idea how to speak to people. He’s completely unsuitable. The role of SIO requires tact and diplomacy. Can you believe he let Grant see that poor boy’s parents?’

  ‘Did he?’ Hank was appalled.

  Kate took a long, deep breath, her attention straying out the passenger-side window. Atkins was on the village green, arms crossed over his chest, staring back at her. ‘Look at him,’ she muttered. ‘What the hell is he doing?’

  ‘Standing around with his thumb up his arse, as usual.’

  ‘You’re not wrong,’ Kate said. ‘He thinks the villagers are imbeciles. They know it too. You can see it in their eyes. Can you imagine someone like Matthew Willis talking to him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Kate’s frustration was boiling over. ‘Material witness or
not, he’ll clam up. And when he does, we’ll lose the only ally we have.’

  Hank raised an eyebrow. ‘Ally might be stretching it.’

  ‘Talk to Willis again and see what you can get out of him before Atkins wades in there, all guns blazing, losing ground. Subtlety is not a word he’s familiar with.’

  ‘He just left,’ Hank said. ‘Want me to hang around in case he turns up?’

  ‘And leave you to the mercy of Atkins?’ She shook her head. ‘No DS of mine will be his whipping boy. No, you’re coming with me. Disappear after the briefing and I’ll cover for you.’

  ‘To do what?’

  ‘Your dream job.’

  ‘Do I need a whip?’

  ‘Behave! I want to know exactly what you can see from the pub in the dark.’ Ignoring his hands joined in prayer and the silly grin on his face, Kate’s attention shifted once more to Atkins. ‘Think you can manage that without him getting wind of it?’

  ‘I’m gutted you feel the need to ask.’

  ‘Be careful, Hank. This is still his case and he will shaft you at the first opportunity. If it were mine, I’d be organizing a reconstruction. I know it’s not done much nowadays, but you never know what gem you might come up with.’

  ‘Works for me.’

  ‘Yeah. Shame Atkins is too pig-headed to go with it.’

  Pulling his seat belt over his chest, Hank was unable to hide the difficulty he was having. Kate was close enough to see the pain behind his eyes. Despite their busy schedule – they worked at breakneck pace during the first few days of an enquiry – she asked if he wanted dropping at home. He declined, changing the subject back to Atkins before she got stuck into him again. The subject of his injury was not up for discussion. He’d signed himself fit for duty and that was the end of it.

  ‘Are you going to tell me why the tosser hates your guts?’ he asked.

  ‘Nice sidestep.’ Kate continued to stare at him. ‘Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? And by the way, you can forget doing anything after the briefing. You leave Willis to me.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I’m not blind—’

  ‘Like I said, I’m a bit stiff. Stop fussing, I was warned about it.’

  ‘I’ve made my decision.’

  ‘Kaaate—’

  ‘You’re off duty after the briefing. No arguments.’

  ‘Not before you tell me what went on between you and Atkins.’

  Kate avoided his eyes. ‘He’s a piece of work, that’s all.’

  ‘Bollocks. He’s a lot more than that. I’ve seen you handle guys like him. None of them get under your skin like he does. Is it personal?’

  ‘It’s history.’

  ‘Not from where I’m standing.’

  Kate warned him to drop it. ‘You keep your secrets and I’ll keep mine. It makes my head ache just thinking about him.’

  Hank backed off.

  Kate softened her voice. ‘Will you promise me something?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘If it gets too much, will you check out for a while? Why don’t you go on the Pat and Mick while I’m on holiday? That way you won’t have the extra burden of coping with the SIO from hell.’

  ‘I’m not letting him freeze me out—’

  ‘You saw what he was like with Grant. Believe me, you’ll get all the shit jobs and work the most hours—’

  ‘Fine, I can handle that. I want this case sorted.’

  ‘He’ll be gone as soon as I return from leave.’

  ‘You going to talk to the guv’nor?’

  ‘Damn right I am. I can’t understand why he let Atkins anywhere near a murder case. Don’t worry, he won’t be kept on.’

  ‘And if he is?’

  ‘I walk.’ Kate started the engine and pulled away.

  Kate swerved to avoid a male pheasant strutting across the road with all the time in the world, the bane of her life when she was off duty on two wheels. Before she left the countryside behind, word came in that the search party she’d organized to find the missing bike had drawn a blank. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She drove on in silence. That bike was evidence but the area was vast. She had no manpower to search every hedgerow.

  Unless. . .

  ‘I have an idea,’ she said. ‘I need to make a call.’

  Hank looked at her. ‘To whom?’

  ‘The only person with the means to help us out.’ She found a number and pressed the call button on the Audi’s hands-free. Stewart Cole picked up after a couple of rings, his velvet voice filling the car.

  ‘Kate, what a lovely surprise! It’s been way too long. I’m in withdrawal.’

  Hank rolled his eyes.

  Cole was an all-singing-all-dancing action man. The force helicopter pilot – ex-army too. Someone who, if he lived to be a hundred, couldn’t repay the kindness the DCI had shown him. After he had helped out on a previous enquiry to find a missing girl, Kate had put in a good word for him at HQ, getting him what Hank considered to be a ‘cushy number’ flying around all day, enjoying himself, while officers below went trudging in the thick of it. As a result, Cole was putty in her hands.

  ‘Stew,’ she said, ‘I need a favour.’

  ‘Name it.’

  ‘Any chance you can do a zip round the area from Alwinton to Elsdon in that helicopter of yours? I have no authority to ask, but don’t let that stop you if you’re at the airport twiddling your thumbs. Can you assist?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I have no paperwork.’

  ‘I never asked for any. Wanna join me?’ He knew she’d rather eat worms.

  ‘I’d love to,’ she lied. ‘Unfortunately, I’m tied up.’

  ‘Sounds promising. Gimme ten, I’ll be over.’

  ‘Behave yourself—’

  ‘You’re no fun.’ He sounded genuinely disappointed that she wouldn’t be joining him on the flight. ‘What am I looking for exactly?’

  ‘A trail bike. White. Expensive. Not sure what make or model. I suspect it’s been stolen and may since have been dumped. I’m fairly certain my victim was riding it last night. I need it found.’

  ‘I’ll do what I can.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m heading to the incident room. Give me a shout if you come across it. Owe you one, Stew.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to collect.’

  Kate glanced at Hank, laughing into her hand as he stuck two fingers down his throat. He didn’t like sharing her with Cole and acted like a jealous teenager whenever the three of them came into close contact. His ambivalence was not lost on the amiable pilot either. In fact, at that very moment in time, he was interpreting the pause on the line, putting two and two together, no doubt picturing Hank’s reaction to the conversation.

  ‘Tell your DS to wind his neck in,’ he said. ‘I assume he’s there, joined at the hip, eavesdropping as usual. I swear he gets a vicarious pleasure from our relationship. We should invite him out to dinner soon, or round to the flat sometime. Let him see the chemistry first hand—’

  ‘In your dreams, pal.’ Hank made a face at Kate.

  She laughed out loud, enjoying the banter.

  ‘I’ll get back to you.’ Cole was chuckling as he ended the call.

  ‘This isn’t a bike theft gone wrong,’ Hank grumbled. ‘More likely someone was after Elliott’s winnings, roughed him up and took the money.’

  ‘And then hung him afterwards? You don’t believe that any more than I do.’

  ‘So what do you reckon?’

  ‘Just because I’m the boss doesn’t mean I have all the answers. I’m as clueless as you.’

  ‘Well, whoever beat the shit out of him could easily have finished him off in Elsdon and dumped his body over the churchyard wall. So why didn’t they?’

  ‘Good question. The gibbet has to be significant.’

  ‘Yeah, but how? Why?’

  ‘Hold that thought, Hank. If Cole finds the bike, maybe it’ll point us in the right direction.’ Her phone rang. Not a number she recognized.
She pressed a button on the steering wheel to take it.

  ‘Daniels.’

  ‘Grant here, ma’am.’

  ‘What can I do for you, Colin?’

  ‘I wanted to let you know that the victim called his mother at around seven o’clock last night—’

  ‘He what?’ Kate wondered why he hadn’t mentioned this when she was at the crime scene.

  Atkins.

  ‘She said he sounded drunk or stoned. Between you and me, I didn’t warm to Gayle Foster. She’s a bit unfriendly. I’ve seen punters more upset losing their wallet than she is about losing her boy.’

  Kate exchanged a look with Hank, wondering if Elliott had used the phone box nearby or a mobile. ‘What about the father?’

  ‘Graeme was the nicer of the two by a country mile. There’s no love lost between them though. He lost it when she suggested their son was on something. Pooh-poohed the idea as ridiculous. Accused her of being out of touch with the lad in recent years, quote: too busy putting your own needs first. Unquote.’

  An old lady’s words jumped into Kate’s head. ‘Actually, that makes perfect sense. Her mother, Jane Gibson, told me that Gayle felt guilty for having shirked responsibility for his upbringing. Consequently, she showered him with expensive gifts at Christmas and birthdays, but hardly ever stuck around to pay him any proper attention in between.’

  ‘Quality time was clearly not on her agenda.’

  ‘Neither was motherly love, by the sounds of it. Have you fed this to the SIO?’

  Grant hesitated. ‘He won’t listen to me.’

  ‘You’re his DS.’

  ‘Try telling him that.’ Grant stopped himself from going any further.

  Kate suspected he was weighing up whether or not he could trust her. His caution was justified. He didn’t know her from Adam. As an incomer to the force, it would be unwise to speak out of turn to the wrong person. Many had done so and lived to regret it. He’d made a judgement call by the time he spoke again. What he had to say didn’t surprise her.