‘God knows. I’m at my wits’ end with it all. I’d as soon we eloped and married at Gretna Green. I don’t know why we have to have all this fuss.’
‘I hope you’re not going off the idea of getting married?’
‘Of course not.’ Abra was Llewellyn’s cousin, so was naturally concerned. But the relationship constrained Rafferty’s desire to have a real heart-to-heart. ‘Get Mo to have another word with her, will you Daff? I just want her to curtail her more fanciful desires and get real before we blow any pretence of having a budget and end up in debt for the next ten years.’
‘I’ll ask her. Though don’t get your hopes up. As you say, Abra’s got the bit between her teeth and it’s going to take some prising away.’
Rafferty nodded glumly. He was seeing a side to Abra that he hadn’t seen before. A side he’d never suspected was there. God knew what she might be committing them to in his absence.
Superintendent Bradley caught them as they came back from the pub – Rafferty hadn’t even had a chance to use his breath freshener. But fortunately, the Super was more intent on having a go at him about his current investigatory failure than he was about drinking at lunchtime.
‘So if you’re getting nowhere on this murder at least tell me you’re having more success on the muggings investigation.’
Bradley had his intransigent Yorkshire face on. It told Rafferty he’d have to box clever.
‘Funny you should mention the two investigations in the same breath, Sir. It’s a good point.’ It was always wise policy to flatter the super. Give him the sugar first and the nasty medicine went down easier. At least, that was the theory. ‘The thing is, I’m not altogether certain the two cases aren’t connected. I’ve got various feelers out on the usual suspects and we’ve got a prize pair in the Sterling brothers, Jake and Jason. They’ve both got convictions for violence. These muggings sound right up their street, particularly if they were put up to them by Malcolm Forbes in order to warn off the competition.’
‘Forbes? What’s he got to do with it? The murder was of one of his own men. You think there might have been a bit of tit for tat amongst the local loan sharks and one of them went in for a bit too much tit with Harrison?’
‘Yes Sir. I think you might well be right.’ Agreeing with the boss was also a good tactic. ‘I wondered whether Forbes might have organised the first two muggings of his competitors when one of them went a whole lot further with Harrison.’
‘Mmm. I hope you’re right, Rafferty. Go with that theory and bring me some culprits.’
Rafferty nodded and eased himself away from the super’s side. He grinned to himself once he got round the bend in the stairs. That had gone well. Better than he’d hoped. He’d better score some arrests soon, though, on the muggings at least if he was to keep the super sweet.
As soon as they were back in their office, Rafferty said, ‘Let’s have Tony Moran in again. Maybe he can tell us why he made no mention of Malcolm Forbes’s arrival at Primrose Avenue. Moran’s been pretty cooperative so far. Perhaps we can get more out of him. We can ask him if he saw Leslie Sterling prowling around the back alley while we’re at it.’
But it seemed that either Jake Sterling or one of Forbes’s goons had had something of a heart to heart with Moran, because he refused to say anything more. This mightn’t be unconnected to the fact he looked like he’d sustained something of a beating in the interim. He had two black eyes and had lost one of his front teeth and generally gave off the aura of being sorry he’d opened his mouth at all.
Rafferty sat back and stared at the youth. ‘You’ve been got at, Tony, that’s clear. The question is: who got at you? Your tough little friends or Forbes’s minions?’
The latter seemed most likely as the CCTV footage had clearly shown Forbes’s Mercedes on the road on Friday afternoon. He denied he’d been driving it, but it was a nice car, expensive, so Rafferty doubted Forbes had let anyone else behind the wheel.
‘I’ve got nothing more to say,’ Moran lisped with difficulty through his swollen jaw and broken teeth.
Rafferty couldn’t blame him for making the sensible choice. He’d probably do the same in a similar position. If Moran had got beaten up for telling them the little he had so far shared, even without revealing Forbes’s presence in the alley on the day of the murder, what punishment was he likely to receive if he opened his mouth further? Forbes wouldn’t be likely to let a potential witness to murder remain above ground.
Although he was sure that Tony Moran could provide back up to what Bazza Lomond had told them, it was clear the youth had been frightened into silence. They would get nothing incriminating out of him so there was no point in questioning him further. But that didn’t apply to Malcolm Forbes. The CCTV footage showed his car and its registration number clearly. If he hadn’t been driving it, which, in view of young Bazza’s story, seemed unlikely, he must have handed his keys to someone else.
‘Give Forbes a bell, Dafyd. I suppose we ought to give him a chance to get his brief organised if we’re to get a word out of him. I don’t want him doing a “no comment” routine like we had with the two Sterlings and Des Arnott.’
It was a full hour later before Forbes showed up at the station, having, as expected, demanded time to summon his solicitor.
Although clearly barely holding on to his temper at being questioned again, Forbes had made no bones about the appointment. Rather, his voice on the phone had sounded bored as if he found little point in being questioned over trivia such as murder. But that might be because he’d already obtained Moran’s silence and felt able to discount Bazza’s evidence. The team questioning around the neighbourhood had discovered that young Bazza had earned a reputation as a teller of tall tales. It was likely that Forbes, if he knew of Bazza’s involvement, would have already put out feelers on the lad, so he would be aware that his evidence wasn’t necessarily as strong as Rafferty had thought.
Rafferty didn’t beat about the bush once he and Llewellyn were again seated in the interview room with the man himself and his brief. He simply placed a still photograph from one of the CCTV tapes on the desk squarely under Forbes’s nose and said, ‘Your car, I believe, Mr Forbes. You can see the time and date of the shot clearly.’
Forbes simply looked at the picture but said nothing for several moments. Then he pointed out, ‘That’s from the High Street. It doesn’t prove my car – or me – was in Primrose Avenue when Harrison was killed.’
‘True. But what it does prove, Mr Forbes, is that you lied to me. So, if you weren’t heading for Primrose Avenue, where were you going?’
Unexpectedly, Forbes capitulated. Instead of claiming that one of his staff had borrowed his car as Rafferty had expected, he admitted it had been him driving the Merc. ‘And you’re right, I did go to Primrose Avenue. But I didn’t go there to kill Harrison. What reason would I have to do that? I’d gone to get his payment record sheets for last month. The accountant’s been asking for them as he wants to get the year’s accounts ready for the taxman and I’d forgotten to get then off Harrison earlier.’
It seemed unlikely to Rafferty that Forbes would act as his own messenger boy and he asked, ‘Why didn’t you send one of your staff? Or ring Harrison himself and get him to drop the sheets off?’
‘My staff were all busy and I couldn’t get Harrison on his mobile. He must have switched it off. There was nothing much happening in the office so I took a drive out there to collect the sheets myself. I knew roughly where he was likely to be. I knew I was right when I saw his car parked round the corner from Primrose Avenue.’
‘And did you get the records?’
‘Oh yes. And before you ask, I dropped them off at my accountant’s. You can ask him yourself if you don’t believe me.’
‘I will, Mr Forbes.’ Llewellyn jotted down the accountant’s details. Rafferty had wondered why a mugger or murderer would trouble to take the payments book in which Harrison would have noted the monies he’d collected. Of course, if th
e murderer was one of the debtors having trouble with his repayments, he might have taken the book to conceal the fact. But now they knew that hadn’t happened and soon he would know if Harrison had visited any of the houses in the Avenue that afternoon, for surely the payments book would contain evidence of instalments made against the loans, and if so, he would be able to confront all those who had claimed not to have seen him.
‘By the way, Mr Forbes, while you're here, I wonder if you could supply me with a list of all your debtors, rather than just the ones who live in Primrose Avenue?’ It had occurred to Rafferty earlier that their killer might have murdered Harrison on someone else’s behalf rather than their own; someone whom Harrison had threatened with violence for non payment. It was another possibility that he needed to investigate.
Rather to his surprise, Forbes made no objection. He held up his mobile and got a nod of acquiescence for its use from Rafferty and relayed the message to his office staff. 'They'll be waiting for you at the shop.'
‘Do you know if one or more of these other debtors are related to any of the residents on Primrose Avenue?’ he asked.
‘No idea.’ As Forbes at back at his ease on the hard plastic interview room chair, it was clear that he was prepared to help them so far and no further. ‘I don’t ask for a list of their friends and relations when people sign up for loans. I mostly supply a service to those unable to get credit elsewhere. Those with CCJs against them and other problems. The loans aren’t guaranteed by parents or other relatives.’ Forbes gave them a hawk-like smile that belied his next words. ‘But I’m a trusting man and when people take out a loan with me I like to believe they’ll repay it.’
With his trust backed up by the collectors who could turn menacing at the drop of an excuse. But at least now they had some of the truth from Forbes. Time would tell if he’d told them the whole truth. Meanwhile, they would pay a visit to the accountant and check the payments for Friday. Then they could check out the names on the latest list of debtors that Forbes had agreed to supply, for which Rafferty assigned uniform to collect straight away.
But once Forbes and his brief had left and before they could do anything else, news came over the squawk box that another loan shark’s collector had been attacked and was lying badly injured in Elmhurst General.
Chapter Eleven
The injured man, a broken-nosed bruiser by the name of Izzy or Ignatious Barber, was at first reluctant to tell them anything, even his name. Though as the nursing staff of Elmhurst General had gone through his pockets after his admission and found a letter with his name and address on, he was forced to acknowledge his identity. But he wasn’t in a fit state to withstand their questioning and it wasn’t long before he admitted to working for Nigel Blythe. And not long after that he told them he had been on his usual collecting round when he’d been attacked. He seemed even more bruised by the fact that someone had had him over than he did by his bodily injuries. But eventually they drew the rest of the story out of him.
‘They took me by surprise, didn’t they? Otherwise I wouldn’t be lying here now, I can tell you. Bundled me into an alley out by Boadicea Drive. Four of them there were, wearing ski masks. Came up on me from behind. Didn’t hear a thing. They beat the shit out of me before they took my wallet and the money I’d collected. ‘
‘Have you any idea who they were, Mr Barber?’ Llewellyn asked.
‘No. None. Could have been any of the scrotes that live on the manor.’
‘I know you didn’t see their faces because of the masks they wore, but you must have got a glimpse of their clothing or footwear. Do you remember anything about that?’ Rafferty asked.
Iggy screwed up his bruiser’s face for a few moments. Then his frown cleared. ‘Yeah, now you mention it. Three of them had short leather jackets and all four of them wore trainers. Nikes. Not that that’s likely to lead you to them. All the little scrotes wear trainers these days. Just as well for me. If they’d worn heavy boots to give me a kicking I might not be here now.’
It was interesting that Izzy Barber had been attacked no more than a couple of streets away from where John Harrison had died. Was it possible their murder was simply a case of muggers going too far and not a pre-meditated crime at all? If so, given that Izzy Barber had mentioned that four men had attacked him, the possibility that it had been Jake Sterling and his merry band who had made the assault occurred to Rafferty. They’d certainly been on the spot when Harrison had been attacked and three of them invariably sported their trade mark bum freezer leather jackets. Maybe they didn’t spend all their time hanging around the end of Primrose Avenue waiting for something to happen, but went and got the action going themselves.
Izzy Barber had been able to furnish little else in the way of descriptions of the four males who had attacked him as they had approached from behind. But he said he had managed to get one or two of his flailing fists to connect with faces, so if Jake Sterling’s little gang had been guilty of the latest attack at least one of them would have the bruises to show for it.
Rafferty, not forgetting the possibility that Barber had been attacked as part of a turf war between the local loan sharks, put the possibility to him.
His eyes immediately looked shifty and he denied it. 'Nothing like that. All the local moneylenders get along just fine.'
'Just one big happy family, hmm?' Rafferty queried cynically.
Barber tried a grin but when it proved too painful he abandoned the attempt. 'Yeah,' he agreed.
'And what family would that be? The Mafia?'
'No. Of course not. We don't kill one another.'
'Somebody killed Jaws Harrison.'
'That? Just a mugging that went wrong. Nothing else.'
Barber pretended to doze after that. He even started snoring to add verisimilitude.
They left Barber to nurse his bruises and his damaged dignity.
Rafferty said as they left the Accident and Emergency Department, ‘Let’s get over to Forbes’s accountant and have a look at Harrison’s payments records. We might be able to shed some light on whether he visited one or more of the Avenue’s residents before he got topped, which should remove a few names from our suspect list. Then I think we should see Nigel Blythe again, seeing as it was one of his collectors that just got mugged. If he’s got involved in a turf war with Forbes or one of the other loan sharks I want to know about it.
‘And when we’ve done that,' he added as they got in the car, ‘you can get the team started on checking out the entire list of Forbes's debtors. It should have been collected by now and be at the station. Maybe we’ll unearth one or two of Forbes’s other debtors with family related to one of our current crop of suspects. We might unearth a kissing cousin or two who turned into a killing cousin.’
Adrian Stoner, Forbes’s accountant, was a slim, sharp-eyed man in his early thirties. At first, he was brusque and unhelpful. He insisted on checking with Forbes before he handed over Jaws Harrison’s payments records, but once Forbes had given his OK, he made no further demur.
A quick glance at the payments records told them that the only debtors who hadn’t lied to them about not seeing Harrison on the afternoon of his murder was Emily Parker and Les Sterling. A check through the previous pages showed them that Jaws had visited neither as a non-payment was entered as such in his records. There was no such entry against either name.
It made sense. Jaws Harrison had got as far as Emily Parker’s back gate before he was attacked.
Having got the accountant to photocopy the relevant records pages and satisfied that they now had some facts to match against the lies they’d been told, Rafferty was keen to tackle Mr and Mrs Jones and their lodger as well as Josie McBride and Samantha Dicker who had all claimed not to have seen Harrison. And as for Peter Allbright, no wonder the introverted lodger had been so keen to bury himself in his bedroom and away from their questioning. Presumably, he wasn’t a very good liar and had sought refuge in silent nods and shakes of the head to indicate affirmat
ive or negative responses.
They would interview all five again tomorrow. Rafferty didn’t particularly look forward to hounding the five. But one or more, in collusion, might well have viciously killed a man and he couldn’t afford to let the soft sentiment of fellow feeling with other debtors get in the way of his job. Especially when, by their own too ready lies, they’d levered themselves further up the suspect list.
Rafferty would have been glad to call it a night and get home if he didn’t know that he faced more indebtedness of his own over his and Abra’s wedding plans.
It was at times like this that he felt like chucking in the towel as a copper. Who was it who said that money was the root of all evil? He couldn’t remember, but Llewellyn would. He would doubtless also tell him that, as usual, he’d got the quotation wrong.
They went to see Nigel Blythe again after speaking to Izzy Barber and Malcolm Forbes’s accountant. Nigel’s mood turned truculent after they told him of the attack on his collector.
‘This attack on my man is down to Forbes. I know it is.’
‘How do you know that?’ Rafferty demanded. ‘Do you have proof?’
‘No, of course I don’t have proof. Don’t be more stupid than you can help. You know as well as I do that you don’t get proof where Forbes is concerned. He makes sure that if there is any that it goes away. But I just know in my guts. His men have been intimidating mine for several weeks, though they won’t tell you that.’
‘Deal with it themselves, will they? Is that what you’re telling me?’
‘I’m telling you nothing. I can’t tell you what they mean to do. You’ll need to speak to them.’
‘I intend to. I’ll want a list of their details.’
Sulkily, Nigel supplied it.
‘I’ll also want a list of your debtors. Just in case one of them hit on Izzy Barber.’
Death Dues Page 13
