Riddled on the Sands (The Lakeland Murders) (8 page)

‘She’ll learn. Good lass, is Jan.’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I hear she’s highly thought of, and we’ve got no intention of freezing Jan out on this one. She’s going to be grafting alongside everyone else. But you know this place, and these people, better than anyone else. We’d be mad not to ask for your help.’

The two men were drinking tea in Geoff’s kitchen. He lived just yards away from the Bell’s house, and Hall guessed that they were probably much the same inside. He’d been relieved to see how neat and tidy Atkinson’s house was. Hall couldn’t see any signs of boozing, but maybe Geoff had tidied the place up specially. When Hall had arrived, as early as the milkman used to make his rounds, he’d been tempted to have a quick look in Atkinson’s recycling bin, to count the bottles. But he didn’t, and so far he didn’t have any concerns about Atkinson’s fitness for duty, even if it was unpaid.

‘So why did you want to start so early?’ asked Atkinson.

‘Low tide’s about now, so I wondered if you could take me out on the Bay, show me where the tractor was found, all that.’

‘No can do, I’m afraid, Andy.’

‘Really? I’d have thought you’d know the place like the back of your hand.’

‘The dry land round here, of course I do. I know every inch of it. But the Bay is a different world, it really is. It changes all the time, and I mean a lot. The river channels can literally move overnight, and a place that was totally safe one day can be quicksand the next. People think that quicksand is different from the rest somehow, but it’s not. It’s just that when it carries a certain amount of water it looks solid, but actually is almost a liquid. It’s really dangerous stuff. And even an expert can’t be certain where it is, not all the time. I used to go out with my old dad when I was a lad, that’s true, but I’d not be safe out there now. So I wouldn’t be able to take you out myself.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘Don’t worry, why don’t we get Pete Capstick to take us out? If you bung him twenty quid for his diesel I’m sure he’d be willing.’

‘Capstick?’  Hall thought about it for a moment. ‘You know we’re looking at him?’

‘Aye, I thought you would be. Give you a chance to get a feel for the bloke, like. Personally I couldn’t see Pete shooting anyone, least of all Jack, but what do I know?’

Hall thought some more. He tried to play through in his head how it might go if they did go out with Capstick. ‘Is there anyone else available?’

‘Oh aye, a couple of other lads down the road are still on the fishing job full-time, plus there’s a few part-timers as well. But they’ve all got other jobs, so they’ll not be going out today like. Not on a work day. But I could see if any of the full-time lads are about if you want.’

Hall had decided. ‘No, that’s all right. Let’s ask Capstick. But will we all fit on his tractor?’

Atkinson laughed. ‘We’ll be on the trailer, Andy. So there’ll be plenty of room. I’ve been up for an hour or two and I haven’t seen him drive past here, so I reckon he hasn’t gone out yet, if he’s going at all today. He might not be able to face it of course, what with what’s happened. Anyway, shall we knock him up and see? He can only say no.’

‘Yes, let’s do that then. I’ve got a jacket and boots in the car.’

Hall watched Atkinson find his house keys, and put on his boots and a thick down jacket.

‘Won’t you be a bit too warm?’ asked Hall. ‘It’s looking like being a nice day, warm anyway.’

Atkinson laughed. ‘We’ll be out there for quite a while, and there are only two ways of keeping warm. Either get grafting, a bit of cockling maybe, or wear warm clothes. And I know which I prefer.’

When they were outside Hall put on his coat and wellies. He thought they looked ideal for a game fair, but all wrong here. Too new, and too green. Atkinson must have noticed it too, but he didn’t say anything, and Hall was grateful for that. He’d lived in Cumbria for years, and because of the job he knew the patch better than many locals, but he knew he’d never look like them, or sound like them either. Even after getting on for twenty years he still sounded as southern as a tourist on the Tern or the Teal, taking a sight-seeing cruise on Windermere.

‘Maybe Pete’s got something more suitable that he could lend me’ said Hall hopefully, as they walked along the quiet, narrow village street to Capstick’s house.

‘Aye, lad, maybe he has. He won’t want you to scare the fish away, now will he?’

John Perkins was still sitting in reception. At just after eight the desk sergeant phoned through to Superintendent Gorham.

‘There’s a complainant here, ma’am, says he wants to speak to you, in person. He says that he reported threatening letters to two CID officers, who did nothing about it, and now someone has burned down the garage he uses to store his goods, and he’s looking to us for compensation.’

‘Which officers?’

‘DI Hall and DC Francis, ma’am.’

‘Very well. I’ll ask Jenny to come down for him in five minutes or so.’

‘I’m very grateful, ma’am. The front office smells like a bonfire.’

‘Given the usual state of it, that might be an improvement.’

The sergeant made a face at the receiver before he put it down, then glanced up at the CCTV camera over the desk. She didn’t really monitor them herself, like they sometimes said in the locker room, did she?

‘Mr. Perkins’ said Superintendent Gorham. ‘Do take a seat. What can I do for you?’

‘I want to make a complaint.’

‘We have a procedure for that. Didn’t the officer at the front desk explain it to you?’

Perkins waved her comment away.

‘I don’t have time for paperwork. I’ve come to tell you that because of the actions, or rather lack of actions, of some of your staff, or whatever you call them, I’ve lost a great deal of money. And I’m looking to you to compensate me.’

‘I see. That’s actually a different, or an additional procedure. But why don’t you start at the beginning, and tell me exactly what happened.’

Perkins did, and he was glad to see Gorham taking notes.

‘And that’s why I want my fifty grand back off you.’

Gorham smiled. Perkins was sure that it would be good news. Perhaps she kept a cheque book in the drawer of that big, shiny desk, ready for moments like these.

‘I’ve reviewed the file that was opened by DC Francis when you came in on Monday.’

‘So you see that they did nothing, didn’t take me seriously.’

‘On the contrary, Mr. Perkins, what I see is an exemplary example of good record keeping and correct procedure. To summarise the position, you brought with you a letter making general threats, which was reviewed by a senior CID officer as well as DC Francis, and you were unable to furnish those officers with any information as to the likely author of the letter.’

‘But that’s your job.’

Gorham held up her hand. ‘Please, Mr. Perkins, let me finish. The letter has been subjected to forensic analysis but revealed no useful information. It’s a common paper type, there were no fingerprints, and the ink used was from a generic refill on a Canon printer. And we don’t have any similar letters on file, within Cumbria Constabulary. ’

‘But my garage was burned down because of you. Because of what you didn’t do when you should have.’

‘And what was that, Mr. Perkins?’

‘Put a watch on my house, CCTV or something, you know.’

‘DC Francis did inform the uniformed team here at Kendal station of the situation, and officers did indeed drive past your house regularly after your report, and would have continued to do so.’

‘Drive past, are you kidding? There’s a bloody maniac out there.’

‘There’s an arsonist certainly, and that is a very serious offence, as I’m sure you know. This may not be of any comfort to you, but the scale of the investigation into this case will be substantially larger than it was when all we had was a threatening letter. In fact, house to house enquiries will commence this morning, and our forensic team is on site as we speak.’

‘But it’s too bloody late now. All my stock has been destroyed, can’t you see that?’

‘I sympathise, of course. But if we assume that whoever sent the letter deliberately set fire to your garage, and at present that’s only a working hypothesis, then we need to catch them, because next time they might commit an even more serious offence. You do see that?’

Perkins nodded.

‘Now, Mr. Perkins, have I satisfied you that my officers have followed procedure, and have been making every effort to find the person who sent these letters and, assuming it is the same person, whoever it is who destroyed all your stock of, um’. Gorham looked down at her notes, searching for a word or phrase to summarise the nature of Perkins’ stock in trade, ‘your valuable merchandise.’

‘Of course you haven’t satisfied me. So I’ll take those forms, and I’ll make my complaint and claim for compensation.’

‘That’s your right, but I’m satisfied that my officers have behaved as I would have expected them to. Honest, law-abiding folk such as yourself often over-estimate the level of resource that we have available, usually to a huge extent, and as a result think that we’re able to be hugely proactive in every investigation. That’s just not the reality, I’m afraid.’ Gorham got up and walked to the large scale map of the county that took up half of the wall behind her desk. ‘You see the area marked in red? That’s the area that my officers cover, our patch if you like. How many officers do you think I have on duty, at this moment, ready at a moment’s notice to respond to the needs of the public?’

Perkins thought about it. ‘It’s a pretty big area, is that. So I’d say twenty, no, thirty.’

‘The answer is four. At present, excluding the numerous officers involved in a major incident enquiry in the Grange area, there are four officers available for first response across the whole of that area. Surprising, isn’t it? But we are dictated to by our budgets, and by previous patterns of offending, and taking everything into account that’s the level of resource that we can afford.’

‘But what happens if you had more than one crime at the same time in different parts of your area? How would you cope?’

‘With difficulty, Mr. Perkins, with difficulty. But if you don’t tell the local criminal community then I won’t, OK?’

‘All right. But I’ll still take those forms. Someone is going to pay for what’s happened, and it’s not going to be me, I’ll tell you that for nowt.’

When Perkins had gone Val Gorham found herself fighting the urge to cough. She walked over and opened her window, and stood for a moment, breathing in the clear air. She was aware that she was listening too, for the faint sound of blues-and-twos somewhere in the distance.

‘I’m turning in to Robocop’ she said to herself, as she returned to her desk and sat down. Then she looked at the Perkins file and smiled. She didn’t have a thing to worry about on that one.

So far Andy Hall hadn’t had much of a chance to form a view of Pete Capstick. When he’d answered the door he’d looked hung-over, and he hadn’t had much to say, although he’d readily agreed with Geoff Atkinson’s request to take them for a ride out onto the sands.

‘But I don’t know exactly where Jack’s tractor was found’ he’d said. ‘Does that matter?’

‘Our forensic people have put in a bloody great big ranging pole’ said Atkinson, ‘so if you can get us within quarter of a mile we’ll find the spot. Can you do that?’

‘Oh aye, one of the lads told me where it was, roughly like, so we’ll find it again. Shall I take some gear out, show Inspector Hall how we do the fishing job?’

‘This isn’t a bloody sight-seeing tour, Pete, for Christ’s sake. No, let’s just get your trailer hitched up and get ourselves out there.’

Hall was surprised at how long it took them to get out to the locus. He sat on the flat bed of the trailer, holding on to the rail at the tractor end, and looked back the way they came. He’d tried turning and looking ahead, but the wind was whipping up fine grains of sand, and they stung his face. They bounced rapidly over some stretches, and Capstick sometimes stopped and got off the tractor to look at the channels that had been cut in the sand, some with water still running seaward.

‘What’s he doing?’ Hall asked Atkinson. ‘Checking for quicksand?’

‘Aye, and anywhere where the tractor could get bogged down. It’s on the outside of these bends in the channel where it forms, usually. But not always like.’

‘What should I do if we hit any?’

‘We won’t. When we get out there just go where Pete tells you and you’ll be fine. It’s a funny thing, but when I was a kid people were forever getting stuck in quicksand, in the films and on TV like. Now you hardly ever see it, do you? I wonder why that is?’

Soon they were traveling quickly over flat sand, and now the shore looked a very long way away. The ranging pole was dead ahead, and soon Capstick slowed down, and swung the tractor and trailer round and stopped just beyond it. He turned the engine off, and now all that Hall could hear was the sound of the wind and the sea birds.