Born in a Burial Gown (16 page)

‘I don’t give a shit,’ Towler said. He waited until it was clear Ackley wasn’t going to say anything.

‘Look, Darren, we know what happened. You saw a man dump a body. You left a note and now you wish you hadn’t.’

Ackley doubled up in pain. A stomach cramp, no doubt. Fluke wasn’t sure how long they’d be able to carry on. He didn’t look well at all. If he were in police custody there’d be no way the doctor would allow them to interview him.

Towler continued, ‘Do you know what an Osman Warning is, Darren?’

Ackley shook his head.

‘It’s where the police have a duty to warn someone that they’re in danger. When you’re released, I will personally serve the Osman Warning on you. And then I’ll walk off and not give two shits about what happens to you.’

Ackley sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He said nothing.

Towler stared at him. Ackley held his gaze for as long as he could but soon put his head back in his hands and rocked back and forth.

‘Look, I’ll lay it out for you. We have someone who dumped a body. They seem to know what they’re doing, so we think it was someone who’s done this type of thing before. But this time, he’s seen. And he’ll know by now, there’s cops all over the building site. How long before he starts looking for the witness? How long before he finds out it was Darren Ackley who saw him?’

It was clear that it wasn’t the first time Ackley had thought about that. He looked terrified.

It was funny
, Fluke thought,
how sometimes those with so little to live for clung onto life so fiercely.

‘I think you got yourself remanded so you’d be safe. And I understand that. If I were in your position, I might have done the same.’

Ackley looked at them both. His eyes screwed up and he wept.

Towler pressed his advantage. ‘But how safe are you in here, really? We both know people can be got to in prison. There’s people in here with nothing to lose, they’re never getting out. They’ll do pretty much anything for a pack of cigarettes or some drugs. You know this, Darren.’

Ackley sniffed up some snot that had been making an escape, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. ‘So what do you want me to do?’

‘The only thing you can do, Darren,’ Towler said. ‘Help us catch this prick.’

Towler picked up his pen and opened his notebook, a signal that he was ready to work and that he expected Ackley to do the same.

Ackley told them everything. They prodded and poked, and were eventually satisfied that they knew everything he did. It wasn’t much and most of it they’d already guessed. By the end, they were no closer to moving the case forward. The only thing that happened was they softened towards Ackley. He was a tragic figure.

He told them how he’d met a man in a Whitehaven club and they’d had sex in the toilets. Afterwards, he’d offered Ackley a place to sleep. The office on the building site of the new hospital. It was warm, it was safe and no one knew about it. He’d jumped at the chance. He’d been sleeping in there for two weeks by his reckoning, but he had a casual attitude to time, so it was only a guess.

‘This good Samaritan, did it for free, did he?’ Towler asked.

That got a reaction.

‘Did he, fuck. He was there at seven o’clock every fuckin’ morning wanting sucked off. Fuckin’ old cunt never even paid me after the first time. Just came in, got his cock out and stuck it in me mouth. Soon as he shot his load, I had to fuck off. I wasn’t allowed back till it was dark again.’

‘And that was every day?’ Towler asked.

‘Near enough. There was one day, must’ve been a Sunday ’cos he brought some food with him, that he came in the afternoon. I was supposed to be grateful.’

‘And you weren’t?’

‘Was I, fuck. The dirty bastard didn’t give a shit about me. Soon as I finished, he went and got a blow-up mattress from his car and he fucked us on it the rest of the day. He got fifty quid’s worth of sex and I got some scabby chicken and minging cabbage.’

‘This man, what did he look like?’ Fluke asked, the first time he’d spoken since Ackley had arrived. He thought he knew the answer but wanted to hear it first-hand.

‘Old bastard. Shorter than you. He was from Whitehaven, I’d seen him hanging round the club a few times. Shittin’ himself most of the time. Typical fucking breeder. Wants cock but won’t leave his wife to get it.’

Christian Dunn. The site foreman who’d called the police. No wonder he looked shifty. Seemed he was using his office as his personal shagging nest. Nothing wrong with that, each to their own. But he’d lied to Fluke about not knowing who’d left the note and for that, he was going to be arrested. Fluke couldn’t do anything about the way Dunn had treated Ackley, but Fluke would make sure he never lied to the police again.

Ackley’s concept of time caused them problems. He told them what he saw: a car had woken him, he’d watched as a man walked onto the site with a torch before returning to get something from the boot. But he had no idea what time it had been, only that it was still dark. Towler pressed him for more details but it was clear that fear was the only thing he was remembering.

‘How’d you know it was a body he got out the boot?’ Fluke asked. ‘We know you didn’t go down and check.’

‘I just knew. What else could it have been, man? Middle o’ the fuckin’ night, he turns up with a shovel and torch. What did you think he was fuckin’ doing, planting a tree? Nah, man, it was a body. Anyway, it sounded like one when he grabbed it from the car and it hit the deck.’

 ‘Then what,’ said Towler, ignoring the tree remark.

‘The fucker picked it up, didn’t he? Carried it t’ hole, threw it in, shovelled shite on top for ten minutes then got back in his car and fucked off.’

‘Where were you?’

Ackley looked at Towler like he was an idiot. ‘I was in the office, like. Haven’t you been fucking listening?’

Fluke hid a smile.

‘I meant, were you hiding the whole time or did you get a proper look, dickhead? In other words, are you guessing what he did or did you see it?’ Towler growled. ‘And if you speak to me like that again in front of my boss, I’ll snap your fucking thumbs.’

Ackley looked at Towler and then to Fluke for some help. He didn’t get it. ‘No, I seen it all. I stuck me head back up after a while and when I did, he was carrying the bag in a fireman’s lift. Still had the torch on, that’s how come I could see. Fucking shitting mesel’ the whole time, mind.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘Big fucker. Maybe not tall as you, but not far off. Had a suit on, I think. It was pitchers, like, so I cud only see an outline.’

‘Car?’

‘Dunno. Not mad for cars, never ’ad one. Me mate Macca’s the one for cars. He’d tell ya what it was from the outline, nee bother like.’

‘Macca?’

‘Me mate. Davey McNab. I went t’ him to get a loan like. Was gonna fuck off to Newcastle for a bit till it calmed down. He could only spot us a fiver, like. Not enough for a bus and not enough for a bag o’ smack. Fucking cuntstruck he is. Scared shitless of that woman he’s with. She said no t’ lending us the cash, like. I could hear ’er.’

‘So you went to Tesco?’

‘Aye, it was the only thing I could think of. Knew I could get mesel’ locked up if I took summat big enough. Had to wait by the door or the fat cunt of a guard wouldn’t ’ave caught us.’

‘Why’d you not come to us? Or to your probation officer, for that matter?’

‘Them cunts. What the point? They do nowt for ya. “Piss into this, Ackley, do this, Ackley, stop having unprotected sex, Ackley, stop taking drugs, Ackley.” Fucking knobs the lot of them. I tell you, probation can go fu—’

‘The car?’ Towler said, cutting him off.

‘I dunno. It was a fuckin’ car. Had a boot rather than a hatchback, I suppose. Biggish. Looked like a dark colour.’

Towler realised that all was he was going to get. ‘Why’d you leave the note?’

His demeanour changed. Fluke could have sworn there was colour rising onto his pale cheeks. He doubled up again. He seemed to be shaking again. Fluke thought that the stomach cramps might cause him to vomit. But he was wrong, he wasn’t cramping up. He was crying again.

Ackley looked up. His eyes were red and wet. There were tears on his cheeks. ‘I’m a piece of shit,’ he said, sobbing. ‘I mean look at the clip of us. Nee family, nee friends apart from Macca, and he’s a cock most o’ the time. Been on the streets over ten years. When I was larle, I was getting two hundred quid a go. Now I’m lucky to get a fiver. Who’s gonna give a shit when I die? Fucking no one, that’s who. Who’s gonna call the police when someone puts me in a hole in the ground?’

‘It just seemed like the right thing to do?’ Towler said, far gentler.

Ackley nodded.

After that, there didn’t seem to be anything else left to discuss. As they left the interview room, Fluke turned and looked at Ackley, waiting there for a prison officer to collect him. Shivering in his own private hell.

Fluke didn’t think he’d seen anything so sad in his life.

***

When Fluke got back to their car and retrieved his phone, there were missed calls and a text. Both from Skelton.

He called back and she answered on the first ring. ‘Jo, what’s up?’

‘We’ve got a hit on the E-fit, boss.’

Fluke could hear excitement in her voice. ‘Christ, that was quick. I’ve only been gone four hours,’ he said.

‘I sent it off to Whitehaven and Carlisle first thing. Carlisle CID got it just in time to get it onto the territorial policing team shift change briefing. I thought, if we got it out early enough and followed up with detectives later, we would cover a lot more ground. See if there was anything immediate.’

‘And there was.’

‘Yes, sir. John Watt & Son. She was there a week ago.’

‘You’re joking? In Carlisle?’ His pulse quickened.

‘You know it, sir?’

Fluke couldn’t believe it. Other than Bruccianis, where he bought his Cuban cigars, Watts – as it known locally – was probably his favourite shop in Carlisle. He bought coffee from there if he was ever passing and knew the owners well. Although they would have to confirm it with a proper photograph of the victim, it was a stunning breakthrough. ‘Know it, I used to shop there.’

He felt a buzz of excitement, the first he’d felt since finding the body. It tingled in his veins and kick-started his brain. Skelton was from Ulverston and Fluke knew something she probably didn’t. ‘Watts is on Bank Street,’ he told her. ‘That place is crawling with CCTV. If it’s her, we have a place to start. Get Longy back in. I’ll need him to work the cameras. We may even be able to track her to her house.’

Poor Jiao-long. Only back twelve hours and he’s stuck with another major task. Couldn’t be helped, though. He was their best chance of finding her among the city’s cameras.

They arrived back at the incident room to find it full. Everyone was waiting for Fluke, waiting to be tasked. They knew the investigation had taken a turn and would speed up. Before they’d been casting their net wide, now there was some focus. If they could find her house, they could start piecing her life together.

Find out how the victim lived and you’ll find out how they died.

A mantra drummed into him by an instructor on his SIO course.

Fluke went straight into tasking. ‘Longy, if we confirm she was at Watts, I want you on the CCTV. Go and base yourself wherever you need to be; probably at the council’s control room, initially. How many people will you need?’

He’d obviously been thinking about that as he answered immediately. ‘Just me to start with, boss. If I find her and she disappears, I may need help tracking down other sources of film.’

‘Okay. Hopefully we’ll get a description of what she was wearing last time she was there as well,’ Fluke said.

Jiao-long left to make the arrangements. Fluke knew he’d go straight to the council and, despite their objections, take over their suite. He knew his way round their machines better than they did.

Fluke remembered something. ‘Longy,’ he shouted to get him back. ‘She may live in a flat.’

He briefly explained to everyone the theory on why she was shot at point-blank range. There was no dissent, which Fluke took as a good sign.

With Jiao-long gone, he continued with the rest of the tasks. As he did, Skelton handed something out to everyone. When he got his, Fluke saw it was a business card printed with the numbers found with the body. The logo on the back told him they were from a local printer. She must have paid for them herself. He was impressed. Carrying it about in your wallet or purse meant it was always to hand.

‘Right, Matt and I will go to Watts. See what we can get from them.’

He stood, ready to leave. Everyone did the same, eager to get going. A break in the case was better than a double shot of espresso for getting the energy levels up. ‘Jo’s also just handed out some cards with those numbers on. Longy came back with zilch which means the answer’s not on the Internet. I want you thinking about this every spare minute you get. Spread them around. They must mean something to someone,’ he told them all.

He made a show of putting his in his wallet and noticed most of them did the same. He had a sudden thought and called Alan Vaughn back. ‘Go to the university. See if there’s a cryptographer in the maths department who might be able to help with them.’

‘Does Cumbria University even have a maths department?’ Vaughn asked.

‘Alan, go to the university and find out if they have a maths department,’ Fluke said, to laughter. ‘If they don’t, go across to Newcastle University. I know they do.’

‘Will do, boss.’

With Jiao-long coming up blank, he knew that Vaughn was his best bet. He was as dogged as they came and would keep going until he had something. As strange as he was, Fluke liked Vaughn. By rights, he should have been a detective sergeant but refused promotions so he could stay with FMIT. That alone made him a star as far as he was concerned, but Vaughn was also a superb detective. He was a fiercely private individual, unmarried and still lived with his parents, retired vets, in a big house outside Kendal. For reasons Fluke had never been able to get to the bottom of Vaughn seemed to dislike all forms of physical contact; handshakes, hugs, even pats on the back were avoided. He always wore long sleeves, even in the height of summer, just in case someone else’s bare arm brushed his.