Riddled on the Sands (The Lakeland Murders) (10 page)

‘Settle down everyone. Let’s crack on, shall we? Sandy, I know you’ve had a long day, so do you want to start?’

Suddenly she was all business.

‘We’ve finished with the tractor, and we’ve still got ten slugs in total. But looking at the tractor we can see that there were more hits, just ricochets, like. We’ve got thirty two definites, and another half dozen probables. They’re all on the same side of the tractor, the seaward side when it was found, and they’re all quite high up, between just over one metre and about one and a half.’

‘So consistent with being fired at a person?’ said Hall.

‘Yes, and before you ask, we still can’t be certain of whether there was one shooter or two, but I’m going to suggest there were two, standing about two metres apart and about six metres away from the tractor. That’s judging from the strike angles and deflections on the tractor, as far as we can calculate.’

‘Anything on that shell case yet?’

‘The good news is that there’s a partial thumb print, but the bad news is that it’s so sand-blasted that it would only help with elimination. But we’ve got good strike marks and striations, so if a weapon is recovered later we’ll be able to match it, no problem.’

‘Thanks Sandy. Stay if you can, but go if you need to.’

‘I’ll stay.’

‘Right, then, moving on. Ian, door-to-door. Tell us you’ve heard tell of folk with machine guns and guilty expressions, knocking around the village. Save us a lot of hard work, that would.’

‘Sorry, boss, no such luck. In terms of Jack’s timeline, what his wife told us ties up with what everyone else saw. He was last seen from the shore at about nine, out at his fixed nets, just like Capstick said. After that, we’ve got nothing. As to Capstick, again his story checks out. He was out a few minutes ahead of Bell like he said, so he certainly didn’t follow him, and he was back about eleven. Two wits saw him drive past when they were coming out of the pub.’

‘Pissed?’ asked Hall.

‘They say not, why?’

‘Either of them fishermen?’

‘Aye, one’s a part timer.’

‘Good. Tell you what, Ian, would you go and see him, tomorrow is fine, and ask him what he saw on Capstick’s trailer when he came back in.’

‘Anything in particular?’

‘No, just anything unusual. You know, just get him to think back. But one specific thing to ask if he doesn’t mention it spontaneously. Does your wit remember seeing any sign of what Capstick’s catch was that night? How much he caught, what he caught. If I remember rightly he said he had a few shrimp, but not enough to take to the fisherman’s co-op. Is that about right?’

‘Exactly right, boss. That’s what he claims.’

‘OK, mate, thanks for that. And I imagine they missed a few householders on today’s knock?’ Mann nodded. ‘So maybe go back out with three of four uniforms tomorrow and get the rest covered off.’ Mann nodded. ‘Now, anything else of interest from the door-to-door so far? Tittle-tattle about Jack, anything.’

‘No, nothing worth re-telling. They’re all friendly enough like, the villagers are, but cautious, you know. Not because we’re coppers, more because we’re outsiders, really.’

‘Welcome to Cumbria’ said Hall, smiling. ‘OK, Ian, well done. Put yourself about a bit tomorrow, have a drink in the pub at lunchtime, see if anyone opens up a bit more. Tell them you come from a long line of halibut or something. Now, Jane, what have you got on Bell?’

‘Early days, boss, but I think we can rule out suicide, if anyone even thinks that’s still a possibility.’ That drew a couple of laughs. ‘No money worries, house paid off, family is solid as far as anyone knows. He’s hardly got an electronic trail at all, either. Didn’t use his laptop much, and his mobile seems to have only ever made calls that lasted long enough for him to say, ‘I’ll be home in five minutes, and what’s for tea?’ He poached a bit, and got caught the odd time over the years, but I expect they all do. I certainly wouldn’t use it as some kind of indicator for a generally cavalier attitude to the law. I think he felt it was his birthright to lift the odd wild salmon, that’s all.’

‘OK, Jane, we’re starting to get a pretty good picture of Jack Bell now, aren’t we? Only two options then really, he was either a master criminal who knows how to cover his tracks, or he’s a wrong-place, wrong-time sort of victim. Jane, are you absolutely sure he’s not the former?’

‘Not absolutely 100%, but as near as damn it. His wife’s said we can search the house and outhouses tomorrow, and assuming we don’t find anything there I’d say he’s clean. Realistically his wife would have to have been involved if he was at it in a big way, and I spent an hour with her earlier and I’m confident that the only thing she’s trying to hold back from us here is her grief.’

‘Got you, thanks. So, unless we get any indications to the contrary, let’s work on the assumption that Bell had no previous contact with his killers. But remember, don’t bake that idea too hard yet, because we may get a contra-indication, and I don’t want us to miss it if one comes along. So, Ray, last and in your case very definitely least, what can you tell us about Pete Capstick?’

‘Charming, boss. Thanks for the big build up. Lives alone, bit of a solitary character, grumpy bastard really, but no previous other than a bit of poaching when he was a lad. No sign of new found wealth, or any wealth at all come to that. He inherited the cottage from his folks, and gets by on his income from the fishing. Tech support are looking at his mobile and all the online stuff, nothing of interest so far.’

‘And the local gossip? Come on, Ray, spill. I know you’ll have been chatting up the old dears.’

‘And the young ones too, mate. Wife pissed off years ago because she was pissed off, he’s a bit of a boozer apparently, and always has been. Seemed to have lost interest in the fishing job, but lately he’s been back into it. A bit sporadic by the sounds of it, but he’d been out a few times a week recently, even occasionally when Jack didn’t bother. Couple of people mentioned that.’

‘All right’, said Hall, ‘well done everyone. Now get off home, and get right back into it in the morning. With a bit of luck Jack’s body might wash up somewhere on the next tide.’

Hall asked Jane if she could spare him a minute.

‘It’s about this arson, the Perkins one. Gorham wanted to see me about it. Perkins has been in complaining loud and long. Mainly about us, apparently.’

‘The little shit. And he got to see the Super? He must be persuasive.’

‘I’d say he bribed her with one of his baubles, but of course he doesn’t have anything left now.’

‘There’s a nasty streak to you, Andy Hall.’

‘It’s been a long day. Joking aside, whoever sent that letter to Perkins has just earned themselves our full attention. Or rather, your full attention, Jane.’

‘You want me to come off the Bell case? Come on Andy, it’s just a bloody lock-up that’s gone up in smoke.’

‘I know it’s not crime of the century, but it does deserve CID time. Sorry Jane, but for now you’re off the Bell investigation. If and when there are developments then we’ll see, but give this a day or two first.’

Jane was inclined to argue the toss. But she stopped herself because she wouldn’t have done so three months ago, so why should she now? But it was an effort, and it showed.

‘OK, will do. And we’re linking the letter to the fire, then?’

‘Not set in stone, but yes, I am. Neither of us seriously believes in co-incidences like that happening. So why do you ask?’

‘Just that we had another garage fire in town, early Tuesday morning. So is that a co-incidence, or not?’

‘Yes, I heard. A bit of a waste of time though, by all accounts.’

Jane ignored his last remark. She was more likely to do that these days he’d noticed, but he didn’t mind. When they walked into the office, whether they’d arrived in parallel or in series, they both slipped comfortably back into their long-standing professional relationship. At least Hall found it comfortable. He wasn’t absolutely sure about Jane.

‘So whose garage was this? Any connection with friend Perkins, do you reckon?’

‘You know the family, we all do. The O’Brians.’

‘Tell me Gary was inside when it went up. Tell me that cocky bloody smile has been singed off his face at the very least.’

‘No such luck. Main casualties were the kids’ bikes, apparently.’

‘So maybe no connection at all, then? In which case chalk that one up to co-incidence.’

‘You’re just making the facts fit your prejudices, Andy.’

‘It’s the secret of good policing. Ray Dixon taught me that. But point taken, you’re right, let’s not make any assumptions. I know you wouldn’t anyway. That’s what all these policy, procedures and protocols are really for anyway, to stop naughty old coppers like me from going off piste every five minutes.’

‘So you want me to look at the O’Brian’s fire too? Along with the letters and the one at the Perkins’ garage?’

‘Yes, and all the other arson, including minor ones, in and around town in the last twelve months. Maybe just make that six months actually. Because if our letter writing friend did torch Perkins’ garage he certainly isn’t one to let the grass grow, is he? The ink on that bloody letter was barely dry before Perkins’ garage went up in smoke. And tell you what, Jane, ask the boffins up at HQ to do a search, and see if either this Force, or any other come to that, has logged letters like that. The style was so distinctive.’

‘OK, I’ll make a start in the morning. But you know we’ll wait weeks for anything back from HQ. They’ve lost half the analysis and records teams in the last six months.’

‘Really? Well just ask nicely, and maybe reduce the area to just the county, and a manageable time period as well. Twelve months or something. Now, I’m off home. You coming too?

‘Give me two minutes and I’m all yours.’

‘I may well take you up on that, Jane.’

Thursday, 20th June

Ian Mann was hot, thirsty and he was getting grumpier by the minute. The PCs who were clearing up the rest of the door-to-doors in Flookburgh seemed incapable of making even the simplest of decisions without asking him what they should do.

And yet the day had started so well. He’d been for a long run before dawn, and watched the sky turn blue over the Langdales as he pounded along Cunswick Scar, and he’d barely turned on his mobile phone when he got a call from a Coastguard in Lancashire, saying that a body had washed up. Mann gave a description, and the Coastguard said that it sounded right.

‘I’d say the body’s been in the sea for a week or two, so I can’t be absolutely sure.’

‘Are you aware of any other MISPERs that it might be?’

‘No, nowt like that.’

Mann had been in and out of the shower in under two minutes, and in the car headed south inside ten. He was passing Preston when the phone rang again. This time it was an Inspector from Lancashire.

‘It’s not your body, I’m afraid.’

‘How do you know, sir?’

‘The pathologist is there, along with our SOCO team and it didn’t take them long. He had ID on him. He’s a deck hand from a container ship, went over the side ten days ago, but quite a bit south of here. So unless your man was from the Philippines then we can be pretty sure it’s not him. And by the way, he doesn’t look he’s been used for target practice, either.’

‘Bugger.’

‘My sentiments exactly, Sergeant. I’ve just deployed the full SOCO team and their assorted hangers on, and all for nothing. My Super’s going to chew me up until I look like our Philippino friend. And he’s not a pretty sight, believe me.’

It was late morning now, and Mann had almost decided to head back to the station. He wasn’t doing any good out here, beyond acting as a counsellor for a load of wet-behind-the-ears PCs. But before he pushed off he thought he’d have a quick word with the uniformed Sergeant who was on duty that morning, just as a courtesy.

So Mann was strolling along the main street, which was mid-week quiet, when he had a sudden sense of someone behind him, already close and getting closer. Mann swiveled, ducked at the same time, and reached round and grabbed the arm that was just about to touch him on the shoulder.

‘Still got it I see, Sergeant Mann.’

It took Mann a split-second to recognise the other man. He was completely familiar, but out of context, here on Mann’s territory, he seemed unfamiliar somehow. As if he’d come from another place, another time.

‘Captain Rae. Fancy meeting you here.’

Rae smiled. ‘You’re right, Ian, it’s not a co-incidence. Is there somewhere we can talk?’

‘Give me ten minutes. I’ll meet you on the foreshore. Just walk down here for a hundred yards, then take the lane on the left. Is it just you?’

Rae nodded. ‘Still a cautious fellow, I see. But then a trusting nature is much the same as a stupid one, isn’t it? You were a loss to the unit, I still say that. But yes, it’s just little old me.’

Mann watched Rae walk away, then he phoned Andy Hall.

‘Development?’

‘Aye. You could say that. I’ve just met a man in Flookburgh who comes from my old mob. Still with them when I last heard, though he might have moved over to the funnies. You never can tell these days.’