Between Two Thieves

by Solomon Carter

  “Come on. That’s hardly a fair description of the man,” said Eva.

  “Fair? Maybe not. But is it accurate? Probably, yes. Pink said Carl Renton got uppity and demanded Pink tell him what he’d seen – Pink replied that Renton should leave matters to the police. After that, Tommy Pink said Renton had lost it. Tommy told Carl Renton where to go, and that was the end of it. That’s what old Rosie Crimper must have seen. The final flare-up. Whatever else Pink gets up to for either money or for kicks, I don’t get the impression he would want to ruin his life by killing a Christian like Carl Renton. As for importing drugs, Pink says he has no time outside of his work. He says he works markets at all kinds of hours. We can check on that – but if he’s telling the truth I don’t see how the man could be running a drug trafficking operation and a full-time market business.”

  “Where the big money is concerned, Inspector, most people don’t mind losing sleep. Pink is a very good talker. Please don’t let the man hoodwink you.”

  “Hoodwink me? I’m the hoodwinker here, Miss Roberts. No one ever gets past me for long.”

  Eva was tempted to say that she’d seen Tommy Pink in action, smuggling with her own eyes, and that Joanne had potentially uncovered a drug running operation on the train line to London, but she knew Hogarth wouldn’t act on their say so. And she didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of throwing the report back in their faces. When the time came, Eva intended to hand Hogarth the whole thing packaged up with a ribbon tied around the middle. The DI would almost certainly resent them for it, but Eva’s priority was seeing the villains dealt with. If Hogarth posed a risk to that aim, Eva would work around him.

  “You say Peters was dealing Ubers,” said Eva. “And you think Tommy Pink knew nothing of what Peters was doing?”

  “Norman Peters was a small fry, but he was his own man, with his own supply lines. He sold cheap fashion clothes to young people which means he had access to the right market for Ubers; it’s not impossible he was targeted to sell Ubers by a bigger fish because of that access. Unlike Pink, Norm Peters had the perfect opportunity to cash in on drugs. You can’t shift Ubers at Southend market, Miss Roberts. People would soon twig. I really don’t think Pink is your man.”

  “Then what about Grace?”

  “Same deal as Pink. Clive Grace is your snivelling hanger-on type. Looks like a miserable sod, doesn’t he? Clive Grace follows Pink everywhere. He’s Pink’s assistant on market days. I don’t see how he’d be any different to Pink. The same lack of time and opportunity applies to both men.”

  “But, Inspector... we saw Clive Grace following Norman Peters just hours before he was killed. You know what Peters had on him – those Ubers and Carl Renton’s snuff tin. Why won’t you see the link?”

  “In my job I see the potential for links everywhere, but I have to deal in reality. Norman Peters was a colourful little scamp who went his own way. Who knows how he might have upset Clive Grace when you saw him on the Leigh Broadway? They’re all rogues, Miss Roberts. But being a rogue doesn’t make a man a killer, even if old Rosie Crimper thinks it does.”

  “Forgive me for saying this, Inspector, but I think you’re being a little myopic on this.”

  Hogarth sighed. “I get it, believe me, I do. There’s no smoke without fire and all that, but with this there’s barely any smoke either. Look. I’ll keep an eye on Grace and Pink for a day or two, but If I don’t see any evidence of wrongdoing, then I’ll move on down the list. We have blood but no weapon. We have a dead market trader but no witnesses. The same goes for Carl Renton. We’ll find out what happened to them soon enough, but I think that could mean a big sting operation targeting the real drug dealers higher up the chain, not a couple of two-bit rogues from down the market. They’re not killers, Miss Roberts. They’re convenient, but that’s all they are. I think Carl Renton came unstuck because he finally got what he wanted. A face to face meeting with the real traffickers. The big money people. Those kinds of villains don’t mess around. As for Norman Peters. He was a small time guy in a big bad world and I think he got turned over in a bad way.”

  “But Carl Renton’s silver tin, Inspector? What about that?”

  “I think you’re getting blinded by all the bling. That tin is just a small matter of timing, Miss Roberts. And in the grand scheme of things, that little tin may not mean much at all.”

  Eva groaned as a coffee landed on her desk. She picked it up and sipped.

  “Then what about the blood on the sand? I assume you’ve had it checked?”

  “It was a couple of days old, and the sand itself has caused a problem for the tests. Forensics are working on it, but I’m told they haven’t got a match yet.”

  “But what about matching it to Carl Renton? You saw the state of his body? His wounds were terrible.”

  “Agreed. More blunt trauma and a major stomach wound. Not exactly pretty. Okay. I can ask if they’ve run a check on Carl Renton’s blood, but I already know what they’ll say. No match means no match, Renton included. We’ll try CCTV next, of course, but those cameras only work so well at night on the beaches. No street light means no footage.”

  “Hogarth, I’m sorry, but you’re in danger of getting this one wrong,” said Eva. “Don’t close your eyes to Pink and Grace. They’re up to something – I know they are.”

  “I’m getting it wrong, eh? So how’s your case with Aaron Clancy going? Because the way I hear it, you haven’t found any of his missing loot, either. The thing is, Miss Roberts, we all get it wrong – until the moment we get it right.”

  Eva winced. “I hope that means you’re keeping an open mind,” she said.

  “This work tends to keep your mind very open, which is the reason I called in the first place. I called to ask if you had anything else for me. Anything conclusive. But I think you’ve already answered that question. Good luck with your treasure hunt.”

  Hogarth hung up the call and Eva grimaced at her mobile.

  “Sometimes that man can be too obstinate for his own good,” said Eva. “He interviewed Pink and Grace and somehow he doesn’t see them in the frame for the Renton murder.”

  “And he could be right,” said Dan with a shrug. “Renton was chasing hardcore villains. Maybe he got burned that way. Peters, though, that looks like a revenge crime. Or a message.”

  “Which fits what he thinks of Peters. A small man playing a hard man’s game, making himself a target for rivals. Either way, Hogarth’s telling himself what he wants to hear. That’s not how you solve a case, is it? Which means we need to give him sufficient reason to see things our way.”

  “Sufficient reason?” said Dan.

  “I mean evidence. Pink and Grace are in this up to their necks. Hogarth needs us to prove it.”

  Dan blinked at Eva and didn’t say a word. She hardened her tone and pushed on. “We saw them importing, Dan. We saw them.”

  “Or are they just two more idiots playing a hard-man’s game?”

  “No. Idiots they may be, but they’re not playing. They risked arrest to bring in that last drug haul. And they did it right under the nose of the police. Clive Grace was ready to use that cosh if he found us. They’re involved in the murders, Dan. They have to be. And now we’re going to prove it.”

  “Fine, but by the time we’ve finished with those two scumbags, Clancy’s gold will be long gone. Looks like we’ll be needing your Lauren Jaeger case more than we thought.”

  The very idea made Eva’s frown deepen. She sipped her coffee and opened her desk drawer to dredge it for painkillers.

  Nineteen

  Eva and Dan travelled back to Kings Road alone. By the time Georgie opened the front door to them, Eva’s painkillers were beginning to kick in. Behind Georgie they saw the hallway was empty. There was no sign of Joe or Clancy Senior anywhere. Next, Eva noticed a look of concern on the girl’s face, but in spite of it, she saw Georgie was relieved to see them.

  “You okay?” said Dan. The girl nodded and tucked her usual rogu
e lock of hair back behind her ear.

  “It’s Joe,” she said. “He’s been so odd with me today. I mean even stranger than usual.”

  Dan and Eva shared a momentary glance. It figured.

  “You mean he’s ill again?” said Eva.

  “Yes, he’s ill. And on top of that he’s gone all moody and quiet with me. The thing is, I really don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it this time.”

  “Trust me,” said Dan. “It’s not you, it’s him. What about Aaron Clancy. Is he here?”

  “Uh. No. He’s out again. Either another meeting or he’s with his girlfriend.”

  “I see. Do you mind if we come in?” said Eva.

  Georgie let the door hang open and backed away inside the house. “Actually, it’d be nice to have some company. It’s been deathly quiet here today.” She led them into the busy room with the treasure clutter on the shelves and the walls. Georgie dropped her backside into a seat. Eva and Dan took the unspoken invitation to do the same.

  Eva did her best to read between the lines. Joe was giving her the cold shoulder – probably fretting about his private Uber supply running out. But there could have been other reasons for his mood change. Had he known all along what had happened to Carl Renton? It was impossible to find out without playing their hand and asking the young man outright. Instead, Eva decided to bide her time to work towards the question.

  “How long has Joe been like this?”

  “A few hours, so far.

  “No, I meant, in general. Unwell. Pale. Sweating all the time. How many days or weeks has he been like this?”

  “Oh, he’s been like this for months now. And I feel sorry for him, I really do. We used to be really good together. I mean, he was so much more fun before this phase started. I know it’s not his fault that he’s like this. I have to make allowances.”

  “Did you ever find out why he lost his wallet over in Southchurch?” said Eva. “That park where Mark found it is a rough part of town. Not Joe’s kind of place.”

  “It isn’t, I know. But Joe didn’t tell me. He’s a lot more secretive these days. But I think that’s part of his being tired and moody – to do with this illness.”

  “So, has he ever been checked out by a doctor?” said Dan.

  “No. He’s really dead against that. His dad tried to force him to go once or twice, but he’s so stubborn.”

  “Yeah. That figures too,” said Dan.

  The girl looked perplexed by Dan’s words and Eva shot him a glance to warn him not to reveal any more.

  “Joe’s clothes-buying habit. Do you remember when that started?”

  “Hmmmm,” said the girl, thinking it over. “Two or three months ago, maybe more. He got really obsessed with it about six weeks back, and he’s still hoarding them now.”

  “Maybe he lost his wallet when he was out buying clothes,” said Dan.

  “Maybe,” said the girl, her eyes narrowing. “Wait. Do you think his moods and illness are connected to his clothes hoarding? Like a psychological thing. A physical manifestation of his mental health or something?”

  “It’s certainly possible,” said Eva.

  “It crossed my mind too,” said Dan.

  Eva took a breath before pushing on as far as she dared. “I was wondering something else.” Georgie nodded for her to go on.

  “You said Joe had resorted to paying for the clothes using some of his father’s belongings...”

  The girl looked suddenly strained. Her eyes darted to the stairwell and she licked her lips.

  “Please don’t say that too loudly,” she said. “He’ll only start again.”

  Eva nodded. “Have you ever thought about the burglary, Georgie? How it might be related?”

  “To what?” said Georgie. She frowned as she read Eva’s eyes closely. Eva said nothing more. She waited for the penny to drop.

  “Please, you can’t be suggesting that...”

  “I’m not suggesting anything,” said Eva. “It’s just a question, that’s all.”

  “A question about what?” The door creaked open and in walked Joe Clancy. The young man looked a good deal better than he had in the morning. Less pale, less peaky, but strain showed on his face, like he was working hard to hold himself together. The young man looked like he’d taken enough of his chosen poison to take the edge off, but also like it wasn’t quite doing the job. He was eking out the last of what he had to stave off the coming crisis when it all dried up.

  “Uh... they were just asking how long you’ve been feeling like this. You know, unwell.”

  “Were they now?” said Joe, shooting each of them a hard look before he calmed himself down again. “And what did you tell them, Georgie?”

  Georgie suddenly looked under pressure. “I said a couple of months or more. You know, they wondered if it had anything to do with you buying all those clothes...” The girl spoke hesitantly before faltering altogether.

  Joe Clancy’s eyes flared. “That’s none of their business.”

  “They only want to help you, Joe. I see that. They only want to help you get to the bottom of your problem. Like I do.”

  “That’s not the kind of help I need. And it’s not the kind of help anyone here asked for. If they’re going to stick their noses into any other of my business without asking, maybe you should tell them to clear off.” Joe cast a glance at Eva and Dan. “Have you even found a single piece of my father’s collection yet?”

  “Now hold on,” said Dan. “You made it clear finding Renton was your particular priority. You didn’t give a damn about your father’s gold.”

  “Answer the question. Well, have you?” said Joe.

  “No,” said Eva.

  “There you are then. Maybe they’re not up to the task, Georgie. Perhaps we should tell him.”

  “Or maybe there’s good reason we can’t find those things. A reason you might know of,” said Dan. Eva shot him another look of warning, Georgie followed her eyes, perplexed. The wind fell from from Joe’s sails.

  “No. I don’t know any reason. In fact, I’d be very happy if you found them. Maybe happier than my old man. But If I had to choose one over the other, then I’d be happier if you found Carl... even if it meant everything else stayed lost.”

  Eva closed her eyes and took in a sharp breath, an involuntary gesture. So. Joe didn’t know. And Eva felt he was sincere, not faking it. They’d pushed him to see where it would lead, and it had led them here. Joe didn’t know Carl was gone for good.

  “Then you haven’t heard?” said Eva.

  Joe Clancy shook his head, and a fresh line appeared in his forehead. “Heard what?”

  Eva looked at Dan, but all he could do was nod. It was time to break the news.

  “A body was found washed up on Southchurch beach, not far from where Norman Peters was found. A few hundred yards further on.”

  “A body?” said Joe. His eyes misted immediately. He shook his head.

  “No. That can’t be right. Carl is a good man, a godly man. There’s no reason anyone would ever want to hurt him. He only ever sees the best in people. He only ever wants to help. I know I let him down, we argued, I just wanted to make it up to him!” The tears spilled down his face.

  “Joe,” said Eva. “I’m sorry. But it was Carl. His body was recognised by one of his Christian friends.”

  Georgie moved quickly to Joe’s side and wrapped him in her arms. The boy seemed to hang there, as if Georgie was holding him up.

  “But I don’t get it,” he whimpered. “Why?! First Norm, now this... both dead on the beach?!”

  “Actually, we were hoping you might be able to give us some kind of insight there, Joe,” said Eva.

  “What? Me? Why?”

  “Carl Renton’s silver snuff tin. The Bible quote tin. We told you, Norman Peters had it. And you knew Norman Peters just like you knew Carl Renton. You were the only link between them we could find.”

  “You seriously think that I would have had anything to do with that? A
s if I would!” Hot tears of indignation coursed down the young man’s face. “Carl looked after me. He was my friend! I let him down, but I would never, ever have deliberately hurt him.”

  “Maybe not deliberately, then,” said Dan.

  The words silenced the boy for a moment before his mouth cut loose again.

  “You people! You call yourselves private investigators, but all you do is upset and blame the victims! You were supposed to help us!”

  “Joe, come on. let’s not pretend you’re a saint here,” said Dan.

  “Not helpful,” said Eva.

  “I’m no saint, no, but I’m certainly no killer,” said Joe. “I don’t know who killed Norman Peters and I don’t know why anyone would hurt Carl Renton. He treated me better than my father ever did.”

  “I think we have a reason why it might have happened,” said Eva.

  “Why?!” demanded the young man.

  “Because of Carl’s mission to find the people who were trafficking that awful Uber drug into the town. Because he was getting closer to the truth. But before we can say anymore, we’re going to need to prove it.”

  The boy’s eyes gleamed with anger and distress. “Then just prove it. Damn them. Find out who did it, get my father’s gold back and then leave us alone.”

  “That’s the thing, Joe. The trail’s gone stone cold on your father’s stolen gold,” said Dan.

  The boy looked at Dan. Dan held him in his gaze.

  “I don’t suppose you have any idea why?”

  The silence lasted a little too long before Joe shook his head. “I’m sorry. No. I have no idea.” Joe Clancy had every right to be upset, but Eva wondered if his sadness was connected to his father’s treasures as well as his grief.

  They heard the final growl of a car engine outside as it pulled up onto the driveway. The engine died and they looked out to find themselves face to face with Aaron Clancy through the windscreen of his Lexus. The man got out, looked at them through the glass, then walked slowly to the door. Eva wasn’t relishing the thought of another dressing down for a total lack of progress. She was almost resigned to losing the case. The front door slammed.