The Amen Cadence (13 page)

He felt for the blade in his pocket, carefully, and when he’d checked it was there he moved quietly past Thompson’s cell, number 3, and gently lifted the flap to 4. A man was lying on the bed, his head thrown back and one arm trailing in the floor. Pissed up and out of it, Dixon thought. So he didn’t bother to check the next one, since it would be the same story. This couldn’t have worked out any better, unless he opened Thompson’s door and found that the lad had already topped himself. That would be just perfect.

Dixon moved slowly back to Thompson’s cell, and put his ear against the door. Nothing. Maybe the lad had eaten whatever old Sid had so obviously enjoyed, and was out for the count as well. He took a deep breath, and visualised how he’d he’d do it once again. Get the boy relaxed, off guard, then in behind him, left arm round the neck, lift the head like a careless barber, and one fast cut, left to right. Would he hesitate? No, he would not. It wouldn’t even be murder, not really. Dai Young had told him that the lad had killed the Taylor woman himself, and boasted about it after, so he deserved to die.

He started to slip the key into the lock quietly, then turned it. The cells were used most nights, what with booze being so cheap and anger so endemic, and the lock turned smoothly and silently.

‘Hello, Micky’, he said, ‘I’m DS Dixon. I’m here to interview you about your knowledge of corrupt police officers.’

The lad was sitting on his bed, and he looked terrified. He was actually shaking with fear. Dixon knew that he’d have to be quick, and decisive.

‘Come on, son, on your feet. Your lawyer’s here. Let’s not make him wait, eh?’

‘Where’s the other cop? The old bloke, the gaoler, or whatever you call him.’

‘Old Sid? I shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s fast asleep at his desk. It’s a disciplinary by rights, is that, but it seemed a bit cruel to wake him up, and you’ll be back down here before you know it. I’ve literally just got a couple of things to ask you. After all, you’re a major league criminal now, Micky. They’ll all look up to you on the inside, I expect.’

‘No, they won’t. We both know that.’

‘Maybe you’re right, son. So just convert to Islam or something. Get yourself a bit of protection inside. Maybe I can help? Get you sent somewhere cushy, eh? Come on, mate, let’s get you out of here, shall we?’

Thompson got up, and took a step or two forward, his slim frame tense, his eyes darting. It was almost as if he knew exactly what was coming thought Dixon, advancing quickly towards Micky, then moving to his right, and getting in behind him fast. He had the lad round the neck in a moment, and felt as if he could pull the kid’s head right off, or at least break his neck. But hangings were hard to fake, Dixon knew, and the cut throat would be so much better. Nice and messy too. His hand would come from the right direction, and he’d have no forensic problems. No spatter, no nothing. Because he’d be soaked in the lad’s blood, from trying to help, of course. Simple, but foolproof.

He reached into his pocket with his free hand, the lad making a surprisingly loud croaking sound, and the blade sliced through his glove and deep into his index finger.

‘Shit’ he said, pulling his hand back and feeling for the home-made hilt. He found it, and was just gripping it right when the man came through the door. Could it really be the bloke from the cell next door? How the fuck had he got out, and why wasn’t he pissed any more?

Dixon’s knife hand was right out now, red with his own blood, and the short blade flashed in the strip lighting. Did the bloke actually smile as Dixon waved it at him?

‘Get back or I kill the…’

The man was coming at him, and he had a split-second to decide. Slash the kid’s throat, or try to fight the man off. He chose to kill Thompson, not that it mattered, because it was as if he and the boy had been hit by a car. He staggered back, trying to get his knife hand up to the kid’s windpipe, but his calves hit the bed, and he went over backwards. He felt the back of his head hit the wall, just the first flash of pain and blinding light, and then there was darkness.

When Dixon came round his DI was there, standing over him, and the lad was gone. The cell door was open, and Dixon could feel that his hands were cuffed. Dixon pretended to pass out again, and hoped it would buy him some thinking time. It didn’t.

‘Don’t bother, Jamie. I saw the whole thing, mate. We’ve recovered the weapon, you’ve still got the gloves on, I disarmed you, so…’

Dixon opened his eyes.

‘It wasn’t you. It was a bloke from the cells. I fucking saw him.’

‘No, mate, that’s concussion talking, is that. I was hiding down here. Had a tip-off, see, and when you had matey boy brought back here, well, I knew what was going to go off, like.’

‘So where’s the heavy mob?’

‘They’ll be here in a minute. I just cleared the room while you came round.’

Dixon’s head hurt like hell, and the floor wouldn’t stay level. He needed time to think, but he knew he didn’t have any. It was now or never.

‘There’s another mole in the job. Turned off the CCTV for me, in fact. I’ll give you the name if you let me…’

‘I know who it is. Don’t you worry about that. No deals, mate. You’re fucked, and that’s the long and the short of it.’

‘Then I’ll take her down with me. You too, Keith. This isn’t straight, isn’t this. It’s Mary Clark, the mole.’

‘Really? Well, Mary Clark hasn’t been with the force long, Jamie, and it’s a shame that she’s putting in her papers. Oh, aye, she’s leaving. But she needs to leave to help out her brother, because he’s got some problems.’

‘I should fucking say he has.’

‘Oh no, mate, you’re getting it all wrong. They’re mental health problems, nothing to do with gambling, getting mixed up with gangsters, anything like that. It’s just in your head, is all that. We’ve looked at her very carefully, and she completely clean. Him too, come to that.’

‘That fucking bitch. She’s sold me out. She’s fucking dead.’

‘No, she’s not. Mary Clark will enjoy a long and happy retirement. Who knows, she might even go back to her old line of work, washing spuds, or whatever it was. You see the thing is this, Jamie. One bad apple we can swallow, but two is just one too many for this Chief, or any other. So you can say what you fucking like, mate, but you’re the one who got nabbed holding a knife to a con’s throat.’

‘And you’re the fucking hero.’

‘Kind of you to say so, mate. But aye, I suppose I am. Now that you come to mention it, like.’

Sid Chaplin was in shock, and afterwards he wondered if he’d really seen Pepper taking the Thompson lad along to one of the interview rooms. But he was pretty certain that someone, maybe one of Pepper’s DCs, had asked him to get the other two lads in the cells cautioned and away before the brass turned up. And we only too keen to oblige, seeing as he knew that he snored like a steam train in a tunnel.

Pepper had told Henry and Rex to wait outside while she talked to Micky. She’d have liked one of them to be with her, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. The other one would have felt slighted, and then she’d have been making it up to him for months afterwards. Why were boys so bloody competitive? They were just like her Ben, really. So she left them on either side of the door, like the Little and Large of the security world.

‘You’re all right, aren’t you, Micky?’ she said, quickly, as soon as they were seated.

‘He nearly killed me, that fucking copper.’

‘I know, but he didn’t. And that’s down to me, isn’t it? They’d be wheeling you out on a trolley now, and you’d just be dripping blood down the corridor, if I hadn’t helped you. And I’ll help you some more, right now, too. When you give me the name of the man who murdered Linda Taylor I’ll make sure that you’re only looking at conspiracy, not the murder. You’ll be out before you’re thirty, and you’ll have the rest of your life ahead of you. Now, Micky, the name.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Yes, you can. We had a deal, and I told you what happens next if you don’t keep your side. I throw you to the dogs, Micky, let the other cons know you’re a grass. And the next time you see a blade, it’ll be the last thing you ever do see.’

Pepper got up, and took a step towards the door, then turned back.

‘Last chance, Micky. Now, or never.’

‘You won’t say I’m a grass. You’re a cop. You can’t lie.’

‘Are you really that fucking stupid? If I walk through that door now, my mates take you back to custody, and I’ll have the word out before you get back on the remand wing tonight. You may not be dead tomorrow, or even next week. But you’ll not be present at your own trial, I guarantee you that.’

Pepper walked quickly to the door. She didn’t care whether the kid co-operated or not.

‘Jackie Mercer.’

Pepper turned.

‘Jackie? Don’t take the piss, son. He’s inside. Has been for years.’

‘No. It was him. I only met him a week ago, and aye, he’s been away, like.’

‘Describe him.’

‘About forty, grey hair. Not very tall. Quite skinny. Oh, aye, and a big nose, and all.’

‘That sounds like him. Wait here.’

Pepper opened the door slightly, grabbed Rex, and pulled him into the room.

‘Keep an eye on our guest, Rex. I’ll not be a minute. And if he wants anything…’

‘Don’t give it to him?’

‘Exactly.’

Henry logged on to the system in an empty office, and looked up Jackie Mercer.

‘Released early, ten days ago.’

‘I do not bloody believe it. How did that happen? If I’d known he was out I’d have put him straight in the frame for Linda. He’s a right vicious little bastard. But he should have done at least another two years for that last GBH.’

‘Just says good behaviour.’

‘Like fuck. Right, let’s get Micky back to custody, and get the hell out of here. I’ll make sure he understands that we were never here, and that he never gave us Jackie’s name.’

‘And will you help him? Get him a reduced charge, all that?’

‘What do you think? Of course I won’t. But he has helped himself, in a way. I’d use him grassing Jackie up like this in evidence if I could, but I can’t, can I? So if we nail Mercer for the killing, and we will, then Micky’s defence team is bound to get his charge reduced, even if he doesn’t co-operate. Honestly, mate, it’s the best result he’s going to get, and one hell of a lot more than the little bastard deserves.’

When they left the station Pepper called Davey from one of the burner phones. His mum and Ben were both clear and away, long since, and Hood reported that two blokes had recently turned up outside.

‘What do they look like?’

‘Wankers.’

‘Can you be more specific?’

‘Two wankers.’

Pepper laughed.

‘It doesn’t matter. We’ll be there in ten minutes anyway.’

‘And you’ll drop your lads where I showed you before you come round? They can come in across the yards when it gets dark.’

‘You think Dai will wait that long? He’s got the attention span of a fruit fly.’

‘Oh, aye. He’ll wait. And don’t worry, Pepper. Unless he can call in drone strike we’ve got nowt to worry about. It’ll not be a long engagement, when it does go off, like.’

Pepper made a point of hugging Hood when he opened the front door to her, and it took him a moment to catch on and reciprocate. She sincerely hoped that he didn’t squeeze his old mum that hard.

‘All right. Put me down, mate,’ she said, laughing.

‘You know those two jokers? In the blue car.’

‘Oh, aye. As thick as pig dribble, the pair of them. Put it this way, it’s cost us ten times what they’ve ever made from criminal enterprises to keep them banged up these last few years, and that’s a fact. I often think we should charge the cons for staying in jail. I reckon a fair few would never trouble the courts again if we did. And don’t worry, neither of them are violent. Not really, anyway.’

‘I wasn’t worried. We’ll deal with whatever comes.’

‘Whatever?’

‘Aye, whatever.’

They went inside, and Davey made them tea in the small, neat kitchen.

‘Doesn’t your mum have a microwave?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Internet?’

‘No.’

‘What did people do, before?’

‘They managed, I expect. My mum knows all her neighbours, down here. I’ve already had two at the door, about those two lads down the street.’

‘Who needs us cops?’

‘Exactly. A load of seventy five year old widows with nothing but time on their hands. Better than CCTV, any day.’

Pepper looked up when she heard a creaking from upstairs.

‘Your lads?’

‘Aye.’

‘And you’re really ready for anything? What if they just chuck a firebomb through the window?’

‘Aye, we’re good for that, don’t worry. Simultaneous assault front and rear, you name it.’

‘What about if they tunnel in?’

Hood laughed. ‘You think that’s a possibility?’

‘Dai’s ancestors were miners.’

‘That’s why he’s got a Welsh name, is it? I thought his mum just had second-sight, like.’

‘We agreed that he wouldn’t be killed tonight.’

‘We agreed that I wouldn’t kill him. Not unless there was no other way, like.’

‘You promised, Davey.’

‘Aye, I know. And I’ve got no intention of harming the bastard, OK?’

By the time it was getting properly dark they’d been in the house for six hours, and Pepper had realised, about four hours before, that she was miles out of her comfort zone. A marked police car had driven past the house twice, and Hood had mentioned it to her.

‘Shit. They must still be tasked to drive past the house a couple of times a shift, because of what happened to your mum. Do you want me to phone in and get them to stand down?’

‘No, leave it.’

‘How long before something happens?’

‘It’ll be a while yet. Like I told you, there seem to be six of them now, including two we don’t know, out at that old lorry yard.’