Delayed & Denied Read online

  ‘Shut up, Gary’, said Nobby. ‘You know sod all about what we’ve got on Tony. And as for you, it’s assaulting a copper that you’re looking at today, so I hope you’ve packed your toothbrush, like. Because you’ll not be home in time for tea, I promise you that.’

  It was another four hours until Tony was ready to be interviewed. Gail had been seen by the police surgeon, pronounced fit to continue her shift, and then she’d had her own statement about the assault taken by the DI herself. Jane Francis had then charged Gary personally, and a CPS manager from Carlisle had turned up as well. They didn’t want any cock-ups, and Gail appreciated that show of support every bit as much as the cheery comments about learning to duck that came her way from other cops that she met around the station. But Gary Pratt wasn’t denying assaulting her, or even claiming that DS Mann had used excessive force in making the arrest. ‘I was asking for it, like’, was all he said when Jane asked about the manner of his detention. ‘He’s a right bloody ninja, is that lad, mind. He had me in an armlock in the blink of an eye.’

  Tony Jones didn’t mind the wait either. This wasn’t his first time, not by a long shot, and he knew that now he was in the system it would grind away at its own, slow pace. There was no point complaining, or even asking questions. Nothing he said would make any difference. It was a bit like being inside, in a way. No worries, no need to plan ahead for anything. Not that he’d be going back to jail because of this, though. What Gary had done was down to him, and him alone.

  Eventually DS Ian Mann and DC Gail Foster came in to the interview room, and Tony asked her how she was feeling.

  ‘You know that had nothing to do with me, don’t you, love? I didn’t ask him to go for you like that. He’s a right bloody animal, is Gary.’

  Gail said that she did know, and that the assault wasn’t what they needed to talk about. She was calm, and almost - but not quite - friendly. DI Jane Francis watched from the observation room, as she and Mann had agreed she would. So far, so good, she thought.

  Gail got all of the formalities right, and the Duty Solicitor sat silently, looking bored, like a cabbie waiting for an early evening fare.

  ‘So, Tony, you know why you’ve been arrested?’

  ‘Aye. But I’ve done nowt, like.’

  ‘You’re not a loan shark then?’

  ‘No, I bloody am not. I’m a pillar of the bloody community, I am.’

  Jane glanced at Mann, to see his reaction, and he winked up at the camera. He always enjoyed moments like that.

  ‘Do you not loan money to folk, then?’

  ‘Informally, aye, it has been known. But it’s just helping out a friend, once in a blue moon. I try to give something back, like.’

  Jones glanced across at the Duty Solicitor, who nodded unsmilingly back.

  ‘So we won’t find anyone else in the community willing to make a complaint against you? No-one else will say that you’re actually a loan shark?’

  ‘Me? Of course not, love. I’m a popular bloke, I am.’

  Gail glanced across at Ian Mann, who was looking at Jones as if he was something he’d trodden in. Jones avoided any eye contact, even when Mann finally spoke.

  ‘Will you be just as popular round town now though, what with your mate going away, do you reckon?’

  ‘He’s not my mate. I keep telling you that. He just popped in, unannounced, like.’

  ‘All right, without your enforcer, your collector, call it what you like.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Mr. Mann, have you not been listening to a word I’ve been saying? I’m telling you that I don’t run any kind of organised lending operation. What I do is just a bit of simple, old fashioned neighbourliness. That’s all it is. Whoever it is who’s made this complaint, they’ve got the wrong end of the stick, like.’

  ‘So it’s neighbourly charging twenty pounds interest on a twenty pound loan?’

  ‘I don’t charge interest. That would be illegal, I bet. But if folks want to show their gratitude, well, I can’t stop them, can I? Now, am I free to go?’

  ‘Aye, while we make further enquiries. But if we get one more report that you’re loan sharking round the estates then you’ll be charged, Tony, as sure as eggs.’

  ‘There’ll be no more complaints, you just see. And anyway, I can’t see what all the fuss is about. Not really, like. When I was a kid we had this bloke who came to the door, Teddy Riley was his name, and he helped me mam out once in a while. And that was before all these bloody benefit cuts happened, like. That’s what’s criminal, if you ask me.’

  Later, DS Mann knocked on the DI’s office door.

  ‘I was just off’, she said, ‘can it keep?’

  ‘Aye. I was just going to ask you what happens next with Jones. He’s at it, no question about that. It’s all round the estate, like. Robbing people blind, he is.’

  ‘But is anyone else willing to go on the record? Can we find another complainant? The CPS won’t touch it otherwise, we both know that.’

  ‘Not at the moment, no. There’s no-one else. But with Gary going away it’ll be his mate Brian Capstone who’ll be acting as enforcer for Jones. Has to be. He’s a right nasty bastard, and all, Jane. So I was thinking, if Capstone was out of the picture as well, like, then Jones would be totally exposed, wouldn’t he?’

  Jane, who had been chucking her phone and notebook into her bag stopped suddenly, and looked sharply up at Mann.

  ‘Out of the picture how, exactly?’

  ‘Maybe he’ll decide to move away, something like that.’

  ‘And you’d persuade him to do that, would you? Nip round and have a quiet word?’ But she didn’t give Mann an opportunity to reply. ‘Look, love, let’s talk about this properly tomorrow, but you did well today. That idiot went for young Gail, and six months or a year ago you would have beat him bloody as you were nicking him, wouldn’t you? They would have carried him out of those flats on a stretcher.’

  ‘Maybe, aye.’

  ‘But you didn’t. You showed huge restraint, and the result was that we’ve got a nice, clean collar. He’s going guilty, he’ll get a decent stretch for thumping Gail, and it’s a good result for everyone. Whereas if he’d presented to our quack with a few bust ribs and an eye hanging out or something, then we’d be looking at all sorts of trouble right now.’

  Mann smiled. ’I know that, Jane. I’m not talking about any vigilante shit. I’m too old for all that. I’m just talking about a bit of proactive policing. Having a friendly word with Capstone, that’s all.’

  ‘Friendly? You? And say what? I’m sorry, Ian, but it’s a waste of time. You could say that we’ll be watching him, but he’ll know that’s bull. They all do now, the cons, even the really stupid ones. We can barely keep eyes on the two or three target criminals that we’re supposed to be monitoring, and the situation is only going to get worse. Word is we’re losing ten officers at this station over the next year. Ten. Can you bloody believe it? At this rate all we’ll be able to do is process cons who come in and give themselves up, out of the goodness of their bloody hearts. And even then, they’ll probably have to complete their own charge sheets. But at least that way the spelling would improve, mind.’

  Mann laughed, turned and held the door open for his boss.

  ‘Ignore me, love. Just letting off steam. Blokes like Tony Jones do my bloody head in, that’s all. He’s not exactly a criminal genius, is he? But all he had to do today was memorise a few words that his brief taught him, and now he’s out of here, scot free.’

  ‘I know, Ian. But like I always say, I didn’t make the rules.’

  ‘And if you did, you’d be the Chief?’

  ‘Exactly. And you’d be an Inspector, mate, at the very least.’

  Andy Hall was surprised to see Jane home so early. He was sitting in the garden, carefully re-reading an email, when Jane came through the house. Grace was fast asleep in her buggy, in the shade of the house. Hall pointed to a chair, and went inside to pour Jane a glass of wine. He didn�
��t fancy one, but he could tell at a glance that she could do with one. Twenty four hours ago she’d been on a high, and now she very obviously wasn’t. He didn’t know why, at least not yet, but he wasn’t in the least bit surprised. It was just the job, and as he put the bottle back in the fridge he thought about what the cause might be this time. The bosses or the cons? Based on his own experience each was as likely as the other.

  When he came outside Jane was looking down at Grace, smiling in a way that she never smiled at him, and Hall tried hard to fix the image of that moment firmly in his memory. Because, in fifteen years time, Jane would be dealing with both a grumpy teenager and an actual OAP, and he was far from certain that she’d be smiling then. He was happy, right at that moment, and that should have been enough, but he still couldn’t help thinking that the decade and a half’s age gap between him and Jane would come back to haunt him. But not today, he thought, and smiled as Jane turned towards him.

  ‘Bad day?’ he said.

  ‘It was, but it’s not now.’

  ‘Bosses or cons?’

  ‘Cons, surprisingly enough. You remember Gary Pratt?’

  ‘Vaguely. More flab than muscle, and lived up to his name. Or maybe down to it.’

  ‘That’s the one. He only assaulted young Gail today, right in front of Ian.’

  ‘Shit. But I didn’t hear the sirens of the seven ambos that it should have taken to scoop up the various pieces of Gary that Ian will no doubt have liberally distributed about the place.’

  ‘No, you did not hear them. Because Ian was the very model of restraint. Subdued the bloke, inflicted no unnecessary pain, and that was it.’

  ‘And is Gail OK?’

  ‘Fine. Apparently Gary punches like anyone whose only training is lifting a carry-out pizza to his mouth every night.

  Hall laughed. ‘The breakfast, lunch and dinner of champions. Good thing we’re having mung bean salad tonight.’

  Jane pulled a face. ‘We’re not, are we? You do remember that I’m from the north, don’t you? And you know the rules, love.’

  ‘I do, and you’re all right. There’s gravy on the menu.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’

  Jane took a sip of her wine, and then sat down at the table next to Hall.

  ‘So if Ian didn’t rip anyone to shreds, I can’t really see the problem,’ he said.

  ‘It’s not Gary. He was as good as gold, for once. It’s his mate, Tony Jones. Remember him?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Useless little con. Used to do credit card fraud, but now it’s mainly loan sharking round the estates. It’s the usual story. Everyone knows he’s at it, even us, and finally we get a complaint, so we nick him, and then we can’t get anyone else to make a statement in corroboration.’

  ‘You can’t get him any other way, though? Financial analysis, maybe?’

  ‘We can’t afford it, Andy. The way things are going we’re not going to be able to pay for any external help soon, least of all forensic accounting. And Tony’s not totally stupid. His bank account wouldn’t show any of the cash, anyway. A pound to a penny, as they say.’

  ‘I assume you searched his place?’

  ‘Oh, aye. We did that. We found his remote control for him, and that’s about all.’

  ‘You can’t win them all, Jane.’

  ‘He was laughing at us, Andy. That’s what gets me. He knows that we can do nowt, and he doesn’t even need his bloody brief to tell him that. All he’s got to do is make sure that everyone he’s lending to keeps their heads down for a bit, and the bastard will just carry on regardless. There’s no bloody justice, is there?’

  Hall nodded, and looked sympathetic. It wasn’t difficult, because he was. The days when the community self-regulated were long gone, if that had ever really happened at all, and fin recent years the local low-lifes had been wasting endless police time grassing each other up for real and imagined offences. They’d gone soft, most of them. So now, as soon as some meat-head started waving a baseball around in the vicinity of their fifty inch plasmas, they just wimped out and fell in line, rather than just sorting it out the old-fashioned way. But it wasn’t his problem. Not any more it wasn’t. ’Supper in twenty minutes’ he said, brightly. ‘I thought we could eat out here, OK?’

  When they’d eaten, and Jane had checked her work email, he changed Grace, and Jane fed her. Then, finally, they were back in the living room, but with the patio doors still open.

  ‘I had an email today’ said Hall, cautiously. ‘From Sarah Hardcastle. You know, from the CPS.’

  ‘Hasn’t she retired? I haven’t seen her around in months.’

  ‘Yes, she went a month or two before me.’

  ‘So what did she want from you? Join her bridge club, or something?’

  ‘Does she play bridge?’

  ‘Just a guess. She looks the type.’

  ‘She does, doesn’t she? Well no, it wasn’t that. It was about the Burke case.’

  ‘I see.’

  Hall knew that tone, so he went and loaded the dishwasher. When he came back Grace was in her playpen, finally looking as if she was starting to become sleepy, and Jane was watching him in much the same way that a cat keeps eyes on an injured bird. It was disconcerting.

  ‘You know there’s no chance of a retrial, don’t you, Andy? An email went round at work about this one a while back. The bloke’s been out for two years, hasn’t he? And he did it. The CCRC wouldn’t touch it, even if they had a pot to piss in now, which they don’t. Money’s too tight to go back over old cases like that, you know that as well as I do. It’s too late for us, too late for the courts. It’s over, love.’

  ‘Not for Adam Burke it’s not, and not for Sarah either. She worked on the case as an assistant, back in ’95, and she says she’s never been sure about it. Never thought they had enough for a prosecution, let alone a conviction. She says she’s always wished that she’d said more at the time.’

  ‘It’s a bit late now, love. So what’s she looking for from you? A bit of free advice?’

  ‘Not free, love. Sarah’s raised the money to hire a QC, and she’s got money to pay me, and someone to pitch in to do the leg-work too, by the looks of it. The usual stuff, checking statements, a bit of re-interviewing. She knows about Grace, so she understands that I couldn’t do much of the hands-on stuff myself. So what do you think?’

  ‘Well….’

  ‘All I’d be doing is reviewing the file, going over the trial transcript, at this stage. I wasn’t involved in the prosecution at all, so I don’t know much about the case, except what Sarah has told me.’

  ‘And what’s that, exactly?’

  ‘That Burke should never have been charged, let alone convicted. Other than a bit of half-decent circumstantial all the prosecution ever really had was a witness who came forward, months after Sharon Burke vanished, saying that Burke had confessed to killing her. Burke’s best mate too, it was. Sure enough, the divers soon found the body in Crummock Water. The victim had died from manual strangulation. Come the trial the prosecution’s star witness was Burke’s best mate, this lad called Jack Lee. And, believe it or not, the defence didn’t even try to suggest that it was Lee who’d killed Mrs. Burke, and was trying to pin it on the husband. Adam wouldn’t hear of it, apparently. Said he just knew that Lee couldn’t have done it.’

  ‘And that’s it? No physical evidence? No eye wits at all?’

  ‘Apparently not. Nothing supportive of the defence, anyway.’

  Jane got up, and lifted Grace out of the cot. She was starting to drop off, but was fighting against the short journey to stair hill. She took after her mum, thought Hall, because it looked like Grace was winning.

  ‘Then have a look at it,’ said Jane, returning to the sofa. ‘Why not? Even if we assume that this Burke bloke is guilty you’d still earn a few quid, and it would keep your mind active.’

  ‘You make me sound about ninety.’

  ‘You know what I mean, love.
I know it’s not easy, going from your old job to being at home with Grace all day. So aye, you do it, and I’ll deal with any shit that comes my way at work.’

  ‘All right, I’ll go back to Sarah and let her know. I must say I’m surprised that you’re so relaxed about it, though. Don’t you think your bosses will be a bit pissed off with you when they find out that your other half is poking about in their dirty washing?’

  ‘No. Sod ‘em all, Andy. And the chances are that this bloke was guilty all along, and that’s what you’ll conclude. They usually did do it, love. And if not, well at least you’ll be doing your bit to get the record set straight. So you go for it, love. And like I say, if I get any shit from the bosses I’ll tell them that you do what you want. I’m not the boss of you.’

  ‘Can I have that in writing?’

  ‘Maybe, but only after you’ve got Grace settled down. I’m getting nowhere with her tonight.’

  Friday, August 3rd

  Western estate, Kendal

  Ian Mann was off duty until Monday, and he’d promised himself a relaxing weekend. But there was one little task that he needed to complete first, and it had to be done first-thing. It just wouldn’t be any fun if he left it until later.

  So it was just after half-six when he started knocking on Brian Capstone’s front door, and it was nearly twenty five two before he stopped. If the neighbours went to work then they’d probably already be up, and if they didn’t then Mann wasn’t too concerned about giving them an unexpected early morning call.

  ‘Fuck off’, said a voice from behind the door.

  ‘Open up, Brian, or I’ll just keep knocking.’

  ‘Where’s your Warrant.’

  ‘I’m not looking to search the place.’

  ‘Where’s your mate?’