Delayed & Denied (2 page)

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?’

‘It’s just me. Now open the door, like a good lad, so we can have a word.’

The door opened a few inches, and Mann got his fingers round the edge and pulled. Capstone was holding the handle, and in a fraction of a second that was all he was holding, and the door swung open wide. Capstone was wearing a shiny, red dressing gown with some kind of faux baronial crest on the breast pocket, and Mann laughed at the sight of it. But Capstone didn’t see the funny side.

‘Oi. You’ll have to pay for that bloody door.’

‘No, I won’t. And you won’t, either. You’ll just call the Council, and you’ll keep on calling until they send someone round to fix it for you. Now, you know why I’m here, I expect.’

‘No bloody idea, mate. But I know that this isn’t official, like, or you’d be here mob handed.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself, Brian. I can handle you.’

‘Maybe, maybe not. But if I call Kendal nick I’ll find out that you’re not even on duty today, won’t I? So you just sod off, Mr. Mann, or I’ll call the working cops and have you nicked.’

‘No, you won’t do that, Brian, because all I want to do is have a word about your little mate Tony Jones.’

‘Who?’

‘Don’t piss about, Brian. I’m not the one standing about in a tart’s bloody nightie.’

‘It’s a dressing gown, is this. Cost me fifty quid.’

‘You were robbed. So about Tony Jones.’

‘What about him?’

‘You’ll be doing his collections, now that Gary’s going away, like.’

‘Collections? Talk sense, Mr. Mann. Have you been drinking? Because it’s a bit early, is this.’

Mann took a step forward, and Capstone was forced to retreat, still holding the door handle.

‘Look, Brian, let me make this simple for you. If you carry on working for Jones, and stop anyone else coming forward to complain about his loan-sharking on the estate, then we’re going to come after you. We’ll hold you responsible for the whole lot, and for anything that goes off. Do you get me?’

‘We? I don’t see any we, mate. All I see is an off-duty copper who should know better, chucking his bloody weight around. Well, it’ll not do you any good, mate. It’s just desperate, is this. I’ll tell something for nowt, like. You’ll not hear another bad word about Tony Jones, or me, not from anyone round here. And I’ll tell you something else, and all. If I so much as see your bloody ugly mug round here again I’ll get my brief to make a harassment complaint, and then we’ll see how you like it. Being on the receiving end, like.’

‘I’m warning you, Brian.’

‘No, Mr. Mann. I’m warning you. Now, it’s your choice. Either you turn round and fuck off out of it, or I call the nick, and then we’ll see what happens.’

Mann turned, walked down the short path, then turned back to offer Capstone a few choice words of advice. But it was too late to say anything, because Capstone had closed the door.

Andy Hall had been up since five, and so had Grace. But he didn’t mind, because by half-eight he’d read the whole trial transcript, and had made an initial list of questions and ideas. He was amazed at how sharp he felt, how alive. Like he’d just come back to work after an especially relaxing holiday. Grace fell asleep again at just after nine, and as soon as Hall was sure that she was properly down he called Sarah Hardcastle, and arranged to meet an hour later at the riverside cafe in the centre of town. It looked as if it would be another lovely day.

And as he pushed Grace quickly down through the town he had another flashback to when he’d first had children, had just been promoted to DS, and was handling a complex fraud case that his DI, who made up for in laziness what he lacked in natural ability, couldn’t make head nor tail of. But eventually Hall had secured the conviction, by dint of hard work and one particular moment of insight into the offender’s mind, which he suddenly remembered had happened as he was pushing his oldest daughter down to the swings, probably on this self-same route. So maybe one of the notes that he’d made that morning would do the same with the Burke case, and crack it wide open again. It felt selfish, his excitement, as if he was putting himself first somehow, but it still felt bloody good.

Sarah Hardcastle looked different in casual clothes, younger than he remembered her, but with the same quiet intensity. He’d only worked closely on a couple of prosecutions with her over the years - and the score was law one, villains one - but he liked her. He remembered her as being diligent and able. More than that she’d seemed to really care about the victims, and that was a rare enough quality in law enforcement to be worthy of note. So he smiled broadly when she looked up at him, then back down to the pushchair.

‘It suits you, Andy.’

‘You think so? I’m not so sure. If I get asked one more time about my grand-daughter I’ll probably end up in the dock myself.’

Sarah smiled. ‘I saw a banner up on a roundabout on the estate last week. It said, ‘Happy 30th, grandma’. So maybe it’s not so bad, you being mistaken for a grand-dad.’

Hall smiled. ‘Would you like another coffee? A bun too, maybe?’

‘No, let me get these. I don’t have any kids, so I’m not qualified to be left in charge of a baby, even for a minute.’

Ten minutes later Hall could feel the part of his brain that had been asleep for the last few months coming completely back to life. Sarah did most of the talking, but then she’d been living with case for months. And Hall had the strong sense that she hadn’t been thinking about much else.

‘So that’s about it, Andy. From a legal perspective I’d say that charging Adam Burke was premature, to say the very least, but that the real fault here lies with the defence. They didn’t attack Jack Lee in the box, and yet the bulk of the prosecution case was built on his testimony. Without him, what did they really have? Sod all, I’d say.’

‘Not quite,’ said Hall, ‘if I may say so. For a start, Burke clearly had a motive. When the investigation established that his wife had probably been having an affair he admitted that he knew about it, didn’t he?’

‘He suspected, yes. But he didn’t know who with. That’s what he said.’

‘That’s what he said, yes.’

‘Well, the police investigation never established who this supposed affair was with, did it? In fact, it didn’t even establish definitively if there actually was an affair at all.’

‘That’s true. I’d need to see the original witness statements in full to form a view, but it looks as if the prosecution successfully conflated the police suspicions with Burke’s admission, in the jury’s minds at least, and managed to suggest that an affair had definitely been going on, and more important that he knew about it.’

‘Exactly. The defence was asleep at the wheel. There are so many points to attack. If we’d run a prosecution like that, I’d have been spitting feathers, I can tell you.’

Hall looked into the buggy. Grace was stirring, but he’d have another ten minutes yet. And that should be enough. For now, anyway.

‘It certainly looks like Burke’s team failed him, Sarah, I agree. So why didn’t they put up a proper fight? Incompetence, or something else?’

‘No, nothing sinister. Burke just made some bad choices. He was a factory worker, and he’d never been in any trouble before remember, and that solicitor he had was crap. Ended up being struck off a few years later, in fact.’

‘Really? Anything useful to us?’

‘No, I’m afraid not. He dipped into client funds and got grassed up by a member of staff. But he was useless first, and dishonest later. And the young barrister who led the defence in court had precious little experience. She regrets the whole thing deeply now, I do know that.’

Hall looked steadily at Sarah. The old instinct was coming back, he could feel it.

‘The barrister is helping to fund this?’

‘I can’t say.’

‘I’ll take that as a yes. And I don’t need to know, of course, just so long as the source of the funds is all above board.’

Sarah nodded, and looked relieved. She’d heard about Hall’s interview technique from former colleagues, and knew that he was as persistent as he was polite, so she was pleased that he was going to let that one drop. Or maybe he just knew that his guess had been correct.

‘All right’, said Hall, ‘so the defence was asleep at the wheel. But even if we accept that the motive may not be quite as solid as the prosecution made out, our man’s alibi is still crap. Basically he couldn’t account for any of the day that she went missing, could he? Burke called it in to us himself on the morning of Saturday the 6th of May 1995, and Sharon Burke was last seen on the morning of the Friday. But he wasn’t at work that day, and claimed to have the flu. But there were no pain killers in the house, nor any tissues, used or otherwise, and when he was examined by the police doc on the Sunday he was found to have no symptoms. Temperature normal, airways clear.’

‘He said he felt like he had flu, Andy. He wasn’t self-diagnosing. And you know what man-flu is like. One sneeze from the average bloke and it’s a week of back rubs and Marmite soldiers.’

Hall laughed. ’I wish. But you can see why he was always going to be the prime suspect from them on in, until they actually found the body, can’t you? And even when they got him in the box he was just so, I don’t know, vague. Reading the transcript it was like he didn’t realise that the rest of his life was at stake.’

‘Exactly. That’s exactly what he was like. Almost as if it was all happening to someone else entirely. At the time the prosecution QC was delighted, and said that the defence should never have even called him.’

Grace was stirring with intent now, and even with the brake on her buggy was starting to sway slightly as she squirmed. Hall knew that he had five minutes tops before feed and changing time, and he couldn’t see Sarah hanging around while that was done, still less offering to unroll the changing mat.

‘You’ve spent time with him recently, I assume?’ asked Hall. ‘How did he strike you?’

‘Much the same. He’s living in Flimby now, in a little cottage on the main road. No job, obviously. But he still says he’s innocent, Andy. Always has, right from day one. He’s never wavered for a moment, and that’s the truth.’

Hall nodded. That didn’t mean much, in itself, but it didn’t necessarily mean nothing at all. ‘And what about this other bloke, Jack Lee? His alibi was solid, I take it?’

‘For the Friday? Rock solid. He worked in the same place as Burke, and he was in the factory all day. Twenty people saw him. And he was out drinking in Whitehaven after work. His wife said he was at home later on too, sleeping it off.’

Hall wondered if picking Grace up would buy him an extra few minutes. On balance, he thought that it would. So he lifted her gently from the buggy, and sat her on his lap, looking out at the world. Sarah didn’t express any desire to hold or otherwise interact with Grace, and that was fine with Hall.

‘Of course we don’t know for certain that she died on the Friday, do we?’ said Hall. ‘It could have been later. Maybe much later. The PM couldn’t be at all specific about time of death, because it was so much later that the body was recovered. And perhaps that’s exactly how the offender wanted it.’

‘You could be right, but there were no sightings of Sharon after the Friday, which is suggestive, at the very least. So I take it that you’re fancying Jack Lee for it then, are you?’

‘Too early to say. Do you know what background was done on him?’

‘You’d have to ask your former colleagues about that, Andy.’

‘I just might do that.’

Sarah smiled. ‘So you’ll take it on? You’ll work with us? I’m sorry that the day rate isn’t more, and I know you’re worth it, but we’re funding this ourselves.’

‘Don’t worry about it. And you do understand that I’d need help? I’d need someone that I trust to do the leg-work.’

For the first time Sarah looked at Grace, who was eyeballing her solemnly, and smiled.

‘Yes, Andy, I can see that. Do you have someone in mind?’

‘I do. A retired CID man from Kendal nick, name of Ray Dixon. Do you remember him?’

Sarah thought about it.

‘Terrible shoes and a permatan?’

‘Yes, but don’t let that put you off.’

‘Which bit?’

Hall smiled. ‘Both, I suppose. But Ray’s the most naturally talented detective, on the human side of things, that I’ve ever met.’

‘What about all the rest? You know what these cases are like, Andy. Detail, detail and more detail.’

‘I’ll take care of all that. Can you give me a day or two, and I’ll come back to you with a work plan?’

‘Of course. Adam Burke has already waited twenty years and counting, so what difference will a more few days make?’

Grace was really wriggling now, and a soothing hand and word would only work for another few seconds. But there was something that Hall simply had to say, to be sure that there no misunderstandings.

‘You do appreciate that I’m not working from any presumption that Burke is innocent?’

‘But you’re also not working from the presumption that he’s guilty?’

‘That’s right. I’ll do what I can to re-investigate aspects of the case, but you have to appreciate that, after so much time, the chances of me establishing anything definitive are pretty slim. Actually, they’re probably less than that. So I wouldn’t want anyone to start getting their hopes up.’