A Genuine Mistake

by Ted Tayler

  “We’ll chase it up, Neil, just in case,”

  Gus called Alex and passed on the message.

  “They’ve received the information from the Hub, Neil,” said Gus. “They’re working on it as we speak.”

  “We should get back to the office by two-fifteen at the latest, guv,” said Neil.

  “Just under three hours to find a break in this case,” said Gus. “I would have liked to have closed it by now. It would have made our night at the Waggon & Horses that much better.”

  Neil made it back to the Old Police Station by two o’clock. Gus hadn’t looked at the speedometer while they travelled on the motorway. He was too busy joining dots. They rode up in the lift to the first floor in silence.

  “Right,” said Gus. “Tell me the story so far.”

  “Divya found nothing on Kerry, the girl from South Africa, guv,” said Alex. “We can’t trace any online presence that fits.”

  “It wasn’t much to go on, was it,” said Blessing. “A first name, and a massive country.”

  “Molly, Ruth and Shirley, Mandy and Annette, have all got social media accounts,” said Lydia. “Molly never married. Ruth’s divorced, and Shirley’s a widow. Mandy and Annette have been married to the same husbands for over twenty-five years.”

  “Have you contacted them?” Gus asked.

  “Their posts and photos look ordinary, guv,” said Luke. “We can message them and ask whether they remember Gerry Hogan, but what’s the point?”

  “Why did we want the information in the first place?” asked Gus. “We wanted to rule out the possibility that a partner of one girl had a deep-seated grievance against Gerry Hogan. Deep enough to kill him thirty years after the girls in question had met the bloke. So, phone the girls he slept with and discover whether either of them is protecting our killer. You won’t find the answer among their Facebook page posts.”

  “Yes, guv,” said Luke.

  “Did anyone chase up where Carl Wallace is?” asked Gus.

  “Malaga, guv,” said Blessing. “He’s lived there for years. He works as a barman.”

  “More than six years, or less than six?” asked Gus.

  “It’s over six years since he’s been in court in this country, guv,” said Blessing. “I can’t confirm the date he left for Spain. I’ve got an address for him though, guv.”

  “Good. Try to find a contact telephone number, Blessing. I can’t see the ACC letting us fly out to Malaga to interview him. Who’s left on that list, Alex?”

  “We found Bronwen from Tenby, guv,” said Alex.

  “One of Nick Barrett’s failures,” said Gus.

  “Exactly, guv. Bronwen Griffiths is married to her third husband, Dewi. They live in Saundersfoot, a few miles along the coast from Tenby. Bronwen has a wide circle of friends, but none of them appears to be the girl that Gerry Hogan slept with in Cairns. We’ve messaged Bronwen to ask whether she can recall the name and hometown of her companion. We’ve had no response yet.”

  “Wasn’t there another girl?” asked Gus.

  “Julia, from Richmond-on-Thames, guv,” said Alex.

  “They’re all at it, guv,” said Neil. “It was plain old Richmond when I was at school.”

  “Is Julia still merchant banking, Alex?” asked Gus.

  “She married a wealthy stockbroker and lives near Newbury racecourse, guv,” said Alex.

  “I suggest we try the same approach with Julia as with the rest.”

  “How hard to we push, guv?” asked Luke.

  “I suppose you want to tread softly with the women that are still married. We’re looking for a killer, Luke. Rustle a few feathers. Only one of them can have something to hide. You’ll get a feeling when you speak to someone who’s trying to side-track you.”

  Gus picked up the phone. It was almost two-thirty.

  “Is Kenneth available, Vera?” he asked.

  “He hasn’t left early just because it’s Friday afternoon, Gus,” said Vera. “I’ll tell him it’s urgent.”

  “How did you know?” asked Gus.

  “It’s always urgent when you call him.”

  “Truelove speaking,” said the ACC. “What’s the problem, Freeman?”

  “We believe we’ve found a lead in the Hogan case, sir. The man concerned is now living in Spain. DS Bennison flagged him as a possible suspect, but DI Kirkpatrick didn’t think it worth pursuing.”

  “And you do?”

  “I do, sir,” said Gus, crossing his fingers.

  “Run it by DS Mercer,” said the ACC. “If he thinks it will result in a positive outcome, then do what you need to, Freeman.”

  Did that include flying to Malaga, thought Gus? Should I check?

  Too late, Kenneth Truelove had gone. Gus called Geoff Mercer.

  He explained the sequence of events and asked Geoff whether he could fly out to Malaga with Alex Hardy.

  “It sounds sketchy, Gus,” said Geoff. “You can’t place Wallace at the crime scene. He’s not got a record for violence. He was never known to carry a knife, let alone a gun. Why target Hogan? Okay, Carl Wallace’s father could know that Rachel Cummins was living with a wealthy man. Maybe, Lawrence Wallace was still in contact with his son. Is it likely that Carl travelled that far with a gun to demand money from Hogan? On what grounds? No, I can’t see it. The man outside the house that night could be someone else.”

  “I’ll have to make do with a phone call then, Geoff,” said Gus.

  “Sorry, Gus,” said Geoff. “I’d need more than that to sanction a trip abroad.”

  Gus knew Geoff was right, but something told him they were onto something.

  “I’ve traced a number for Carl Wallace, guv,” said Blessing.

  “Good girl,” said Gus.

  “I’ve found a Facebook account too, guv,” said Lydia.

  “Any photos?” asked Gus.

  “Dozens,” said Lydia.

  Gus punched the air.

  “Print them off, put them in a folder, and I’ll take them to show Rachel Cummins.”

  Gus left the office at a few minutes past three. He’d called Rachel Cummins, and she’d told him she had a fitness session starting at six-thirty. She sounded pleased to hear from him.

  Gus rang the bell on the house at Trowle Common twenty-five minutes later. Rachel answered the door at once.

  “Come on in,” she said. “How can I help?”

  She led him into the kitchen.

  “This folder contains random photographs of a man from his early twenties to his early thirties,” said Gus. “I want you to take a look and tell me who you think it is.”

  “Interesting,” said Rachel, holding out her hand.

  Gus gave her the folder. Rachel placed it on the kitchen table and opened it.

  She turned over one casual picture of Carl Wallace after another, and then she paused and returned to the previous photo and studied it. Gus walked around the table and stood beside her. In this photo, Carl Wallace was in his late twenties.

  “That’s him,” she said. “How on earth did you find him? Who is he?”

  “How certain are you that this was the man you saw outside this house six years ago?”

  “I’m certain,” Rachel replied.

  “You told us you had never seen him before,” said Gus.

  “I hadn’t,” said Rachel. “Why, who is he?”

  “His name is Carl Wallace,” said Gus. “Now, do you remember him?”

  “Wallace? Is he related to Lawrence? I didn’t know Lawrence’s family. Mum didn’t mention them. Lawrence was divorced when he contacted Mum.”

  “Are Lawrence and your mother still together?” asked Gus.

  “I suppose so,” said Rachel. “She wasn’t happy about my reasons for moving out when I did. We’re not close anymore. Why would this man want to kill Gerry?”

  “We don’t know,” said Gus. “He’s a small-time criminal. If he learned somehow from his father, that Gerry had money, perhaps he came here demanding cash. We’l
l find out when we interview him.”

  “Mum didn’t know about Gerry,” said Rachel. “I told her in a Christmas card that I’d met someone who was a widower with two sons, but I didn’t go into details. Mum wasn’t interested. As I said, we’re really not close. Does Carl Wallace live near Mum?”

  “No, he’s abroad at present,” said Gus.

  “My God,” said Rachel. “What will you do now?”

  “Fly to Malaga as soon as possible,” said Gus.

  “It won’t bring Gerry back, but at least we might know why he died.”

  Gus thanked Rachel for her help and drove back to the office.

  “What did she say, guv?” asked Lydia when Gus exited the lift.

  “First things first, Lydia.”

  Gus called Geoff Mercer and told him the latest news.

  “A positive ID of the potential killer?” said Geoff.

  “Yes, Geoff. Can we go and get him now?”

  “I’ll phone ahead to alert the authorities,” said Geoff. “Vera is still here for another thirty minutes. I’ll get her to book flights to Malaga for the morning. Will that be OK?”

  “If Alex says he can get the day off,” said Gus.

  Alex Hardy nodded. Lydia Logan Barre sighed.

  “Does that mean tonight’s bash is off, guv?” asked Neil.

  “It means Alex and I will be designated drivers,” said Gus. “It’s important that we celebrate our past successes, and the rest of you can wish Alex and me luck tomorrow.”

  “Rachel, guv?” asked Lydia.

  “She confirmed that Carl Wallace was the man on the doorstep. They had never met. Rachel didn’t know Lawrence Wallace’s family. It’s a familiar story; mother and daughter became estranged due to the new relationship. Rachel put distance between her and Lawrence. Mum was upset by the reasons that Rachel gave her. The years rolled by, and Rachel met Gerry. Apart from informing her mother in a throwaway comment in a card that she was in a relationship, she insists that she never mentioned Gerry’s name or where they lived.”

  “Her mother knew that Rachel moved to Bath, guv,” said Blessing.

  “As Neil said, Rachel advertises her business everywhere,” said Lydia. “We trace people through the internet. If this Carl Wallace thought there was something worth chasing, he could soon locate her whereabouts.”

  Gus’s phone rang. Vera Butler was on the line.

  “Five past ten from Bristol,” she said. “I knew it was urgent. Pick up the e-tickets from Bob at Reception on your way home. Have a good weekend.”

  “You too, Vera,” said Gus. “Thanks for getting that organised.”

  Vera rang off. Gus breathed a sigh of relief. That didn’t sound as if Vera would be arriving at the pub later with Rick Chalmers.

  “I need to collect our tickets from London Road, Alex,” said Gus. “I’ll head home a few minutes early. Can you collect me from the bungalow at seven?”

  “No problem, guv,” said Alex.

  Gus gathered his things and made for the lift.

  “See you at nine o’clock in the Waggon & Horses,” he said. “The usual place, in the quiet bar at the rear.”

  As the lift travelled to the ground floor, the others started talking.

  “There doesn’t appear to be any doubt that we’ve learned who killed Gerry Hogan,” said Luke. “Are we closer to working out why?”

  “I still want to know why a small-time criminal travels a hundred miles to demand money with menaces,” said Neil. “Okay, Gerry had money, but there are thousands of homes in the Home Counties that Wallace could target. It wasn’t something he normally did either. None of his arrests imply that sooner or later, he’d escalate to murder. What are we missing?”

  “I don’t think we’ll get to the bottom of this until Gus and Alex interview Wallace,” said Lydia.

  “I might have found something to explain Neil’s query,” said Blessing. “The last time Carl Wallace served time in prison was at HMP Leyhill in Gloucestershire. It’s only twenty-odd miles from Trowle Common. Perhaps when he came out, he didn’t return to the Guildford area. We should check those photos on Facebook for metadata, as we did on the Duncan case. I’ll ask Divya tonight. Perhaps we can discover where Wallace was in those photos. He could have been local for a short time, which explains how he knew where Hogan lived.”

  “Good thinking, Blessing,” said Lydia. “We’ll tell Gus tonight when we see him. One question he needs to ask Carl Wallace is, did he fly out to Malaga from Bristol Airport shortly after May the sixth, 2012?”

  “It’s five o’clock,” said Neil. “I vote we get off home, have a great night tonight, and pick this up again on Monday morning when Gus and Alex have got our man in custody. We’ll add our pieces of the jigsaw to the ones they bring back from Malaga and see whether everything falls into place.”

  “A good idea, Neil,” said Luke. “It’s been a long week.”

  The team shut down their computers and headed for the lift.

  As their four cars queued to join the Friday afternoon traffic, Gus Freeman collected his tickets from Reception at London Road.

  Gus saw Suzie getting into her car when he returned outside.

  “Hi Gus,” she said. “What brings you here at this time of day?”

  Gus waved the Ryanair tickets and told her he would miss out on the things they had planned for Saturday.

  “Never mind,” said Suzie. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me. Follow me home and tell me all about it.”

  As Gus and Suzie drove out of Devizes towards Urchfont, a message appeared in Alex Hardy’s inbox. It was from Bronwen Griffiths.

  When they reached the bungalow, Gus told Suzie what he’d learned and who he’d met.

  “Give me Vicky Bennison’s number,” said Suzie. “I’ll give her a ring next week.”

  Gus fished a scrap of paper he’d brought with him from his shirt pocket.

  “I know you’ll do your best,” he grinned.

  “Was Rachel Cummins pleased to see you again?” asked Suzie.

  “I got that impression, yes, but my focus was on the case, as always, darling,” said Gus.

  “Do you want to discuss the case and which way you think it will go?”

  “No fear,” said Gus, “I won’t have a clue until I’m face-to-face with Wallace tomorrow.”

  “In that case, let’s prepare a meal together and then get ready for our night out,”

  Suzie drove them to the Waggon & Horses, despite Gus insisting that he should be the designated driver to keep their story straight.

  “I’m not drinking, Gus,” she said, “but you can drive us home if it makes you feel better.”

  Neil and Melody were already in the quiet bar when Gus walked through the door at nine.

  “The taxi was early, guv,” said Neil.

  “Only because Neil asked for one to get us here for half-past eight,” said Melody.

  Suzie sat with Melody to ask how the pregnancy was going. Neil joined Gus at the bar.

  “I won’t steal her thunder, guv, but Blessing has news that came to light after you left.”

  “They’ve found Lord Lucan?” asked Gus.

  “Not yet, guv. Talk of the devil, here’s Blessing now. Is that Divya? Nobody said she was a beauty.”

  “Good evening, guv,” said Blessing. “I found a piece of information that might come in useful tomorrow. Carl Wallace served time at Leyhill. Divya is going to check those photos you showed Rachel this afternoon to see where he was at the time.”

  “I’ll give you the locations on Monday morning, Mr Freeman,” said Divya.

  “It’s Gus, when we’re socialising, Divya. Thanks. Do we think that Wallace was closer to Trowle Common in 2012 than a hundred miles away in Surrey, Blessing?”

  “It’s entirely possible, guv. You should ask Carl whether he flew from Bristol when he fled after the murder.”

  Alex and the others piled through the door in the next few minutes. Gus kept buying drinks and chattin
g with his team members and their partners. They had soon caught up on all the latest gossip. The next hour saw them run through the highlights of the last couple of cases they had completed.

  Suzie watched Gus and knew what was going on. The lights were on, but there was nobody home. He was already interrogating Carl Wallace and uncovering those final few pieces of the jigsaw.

  When the landlord reminded them that he had to close the bar despite their day jobs, the remaining team members started to make their way home. Blessing and Divya had headed out before eleven. Neil and Melody were last to leave, of course. Luke and Nicky hung around to keep them company on the grass verge outside.

  Alex and Lydia set off for Chippenham after Gus reminded Alex to set the alarm.

  “Everyone had a good time,” said Suzie as Gus drove them back to Urchfont. “Do you want me to tell you what happened?”

  “I can multi-task,” said Gus.

  EPILOGUE

  Saturday, 18th August 2018

  Alex arrived on the dot at seven o’clock. Gus was waiting at the front door with his passport and their tickets. They were travelling light. If they couldn’t get a plane back tonight, they’d rough it at the airport until the morning. How long it took to get things sorted depended on Carl Wallace.

  After a typical budget airline flight, they arrived in Malaga.

  “Where to now, guv?” asked Alex as they negotiated customs.

  “A taxi to Soho Bahia, Alex. The bar where Carl works is called El Gato.”

  Alex found the taxi rank when they left the airport building.

  Fifteen minutes later, they stood on the steps leading up to the bar.

  Gus looked behind him. There they were. Geoff hadn’t failed him. A blue-and-white patrol car pulled up by the kerb, and two armed officers got out and joined them.

  Carl Wallace stood at the end of the bar with a tray of drinks when he spotted the four men heading inside. Alex wondered whether he was going to make a run for it. He needn’t have worried. Carl asked another member of staff to take the drinks to a table on the patio.

  “I knew someone would come to see me eventually,” he said.

  The local policia delivered Carl to the nearby station while Gus and Alex followed.