Death on Account (The Lakeland Murders) (14 page)

‘You did, you mean.’

‘Come on Jane, you know as well as I do that this is a team game. All that Sherlock Holmes stuff is bollocks. We catch people because we use our resources wisely, because we’ve learned from a hundred-odd years of collective experience, and because they almost always leave electronic traces. Oh yes, and we catch lots of them because the UK is the most closely observed society in the world. We’ve got enough CCTV cameras to make a Police state blush.’

‘But it was you who knew where to look for CCTV of him outside the car. That was really clever. I would never have thought of it anyway.’

‘He was driving a bloody great big SUV with a massive engine, Jane. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that Sanchez was going to have to stop for fuel somewhere, and that he probably wouldn’t stray off the motorway to get it. Like I said, we just deployed our resources, even if they were stretched a bit thin. Anyway, let’s talk about how we’ll play this with our new Scouse chums.’

‘You will hold court, and Tony and his troops will bring you offerings?’

Hall laughed. ‘I wish. What we need to do, between us, is try to review their method, priorities and outcomes, without them being too aware of it. So when we get there let’s split up, and get together this evening to compare notes. I’m going to try to get a bit of time with Billy Cafferty, informally if he’ll wear it, as well. But that might have to be tomorrow.’

‘So I have to snoop into the work of another force, and all I get in return is a lousy hotel dinner?’ said Jane.

‘So you’ve seen the menu at the flea-pit where we’re staying? Fair enough, let’s go somewhere decent. My treat.’

‘You’re on. Now all we have to do is listen to six hours of sheep-based piss taking.’

‘Just give as good as you get. And look out for any short-cuts, any assumptions, OK? As of when we left they hadn’t managed to find Sanchez arriving in Liverpool, or being dropped off at the airport afterwards. We know that he left the UK on a different passport than he arrived on, so we can’t even be sure where he came from. But we’ve got bugger all chance of proving conspiracy unless we can connect Sanchez to one of Cafferty’s soldiers. So you concentrate on the CCTV at the airport today, OK?’

‘And what if they ask about the call to Sanchez from Kendal?’

‘Tell them we’re looking at it. Now that Ray’s off that bloody CCTV I’ve got him mole-hunting for all he’s worth.’

‘In those shoes?’

‘I didn’t even notice today. He was wearing that plum coloured jacket again though, and even I know that’s a crime against fashion. We’re almost there, now all I need to do is find somewhere to park the tractor.’

Jane Francis enjoyed her afternoon. The CCTV review suite was well-equipped and air-conditioned, and the two DCs she was working with, Raj and Amanda, were cheerful, welcoming and open. She was impressed by the software that they had, which showed the position of every CCTV camera around the airport that they had footage from, and which also automatically synchronised it all against a common time-line.

‘Where did you get this kit?’ she asked Raj.

‘It came from the US, but this is its natural home. Even the Yanks are surprised at how many CCTV cameras we’ve got.’

‘And it all started with the Nazis’ said Amanda. ‘Can you believe that? I read somewhere that the first CCTV camera was made to monitor V2 launches in World War Two. Ironic or what?’

Jane laughed. ‘What did the Nazis ever do for us, eh?’ The reference was lost on the two young coppers, so she stuck to the facts.

‘So we’re pretty sure that Sanchez didn’t fly in to Liverpool?’

‘Yes, that’s his standard MO apparently. He flies into a country on one passport to one airport, and out from another on a different one’ said Amanda. ‘So that’s a dead end. We’ve got no-one collecting him from Liverpool Airport, because that’s not how he came in.’

‘And how about when he came back?’

‘That’s not getting us anywhere either. Watch this’ said Raj. They sat and watched the CCTV footage as Sanchez walked up to a bus stop, then sat on a transit bus, then walked into the airport.

‘So where do we pick him up first? Where is that bus stop exactly?’

‘Bus stop near the drop-off area, but we know he didn’t get out of a car there. It’s well covered by CCTV, and we’ve checked an hour before we first see him. Nothing.’

‘So he was dropped off somewhere else nearby? Or came to the airport by public transport?’

‘Not a bus’ said Amanda. ‘They don’t stop anywhere near there. I took a drive out to have a look last night, and some people drop passengers off by the roundabout before the drop off. It saves them faffing around with tickets and stuff.’

‘And is that covered by CCTV?’

‘No. There’s an ANPR up by the roundabout where they come in, but that’s it.’

‘So have you checked the ANPR data against stolen vehicles, and against Cafferty’s known associates?

‘Yep’ said Raj, ‘but lightning didn’t strike twice. We got nada.’

‘OK’ said Jane, ‘that’s a shame, but it looks like ANPR might be our only possibility, so how else could we use it?’

They sat in silence for a minute, looking at the bank of screens.

‘Tell you what’ said Jane. ‘I’m dying for a coffee. Is there somewhere decent nearby? I’ll treat you.’

Half an hour later they were back in the CCTV suite, and Jane knew a great deal more about the lives of young people in the big city these days. It sounded exhausting.

‘So, ideas then’ she said brightly. ‘How could we get more value out of the ANPR from the airport approach?’

‘Widen the net somehow’ said Raj. ‘Maybe look for registrations that are owned by Cafferty’s legit businesses.’

‘Nice one’ said Amanda. ‘Intelligence has a list of those, so it shouldn’t be too hard to do.’

‘Yes, that’s really good’ agreed Jane. ‘And make sure they give you the names of any dormant businesses he has. There are bound to be some, and there’s nothing to stop him registering cars to them. I very much doubt that the systems are well enough joined up to spot that sort of trick.’

Amanda nodded and made a note.

‘Anything else?’ said Jane, and then answered her own question. ‘How about we try to cross-reference the ANPR?’

‘How do you mean?’ asked Raj. ‘Cross-reference with what?’

‘Well, if we assume that Sanchez was picked up near the place where the X5 got burnt out, and was dropped off after the airport ANPR, we could see if any registrations turn up twice. On ANPR near the X5 location, and again at the airport.’

‘But that assumes that there’s an ANPR camera near where the X5 was found, and on the likeliest route to the airport’ said Amanda. She didn’t sound convinced.

‘Absolutely’ said Jane, ‘so are we in luck?’

‘Give me twenty seconds’ said Raj, overlaying the positions of the ANPR cameras on to a street map. Then a red line appeared, showing the most likely route between the two points. They all looked at it for a few seconds, and Jane was smiling for most of them. There was an ANPR camera on a main road within half a mile of where the X5 had been found.

‘So it might work’ said Raj. ‘But I can’t see the point really. Because even if we do pick up a few cars within, say, the thirty minutes before we see Sanchez getting that airport bus, it proves nothing. We probably will get a few, and they could all just be co-incidence. After all, we’ve already checked the Cafferty known associates, and now we’re widening that out, aren’t we?’

‘Yes’ said Jane, ‘but Cafferty and his crew are no fools. They’ve probably got cars registered to friends, family members, all sorts. So if we just got a few hits, maybe twenty or fewer, it might be worth going out and seeing the owners, or at least running the owners through the PNC.’

‘Got you’ said Raj. ‘I’m up for that.’

‘Unless you’ve got any other ideas? There’s more than one way of skinning a cat.’

Raj pulled a face. ‘I’ll take your word for that Jane. We’ve heard about your funny ways up north.’

Jane didn’t see Hall again that afternoon, but at half seven he knocked at her hotel room door, as arranged. She didn’t wear a watch, but with Hall around she didn’t need to. He was still suited and booted, but the tie had gone, and she hadn’t seen the shirt before. She quite liked it.

‘So where are we going then, Andy?’

‘I asked Tony Sheridan for a suggestion and got about seventy. That bloke must be out every night of the week. And needless to say he took the piss for the rest of the day, I was glad to get away.’

‘So what was your decision? I could eat a scabby horse.’

Hall laughed. ‘Excellent. Well I decided to go for a cuisine that we don’t get in Kendal.’

‘That leaves the field wide open.’

‘Maybe, and I decided to go for Iraqi.’

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘I am. You should see your face. It’s a French bistro place, nothing pretentious, and they will translate the menu without sniggering. Or so Sheridan tells me. It’s walking distance, if your shoes are up to it.’

Hall hadn’t seen Jane in heels before, and he guessed she was self-conscious about being tall. But since he was still a good few inches taller than her that didn’t matter.

‘I’ll be fine. And if I get a blister I’m sure you’ll carry me back to the hotel.’

Hall laughed, but not for too long. Despite his bad back he’d be willing to give it a try.

The restaurant seemed perfect to Hall. Not flash or showy, but still pretty full of the kind of people he reckoned he could probably talk to. The menu was in French, as promised, but he knew what most of it meant.

‘So which ones are horse?’ said Jane.

‘All of them’ he replied. ‘The French eat literally nothing else now. It’s a fact.’

They chatted about their culinary mishaps, and Hall went first. ‘When I first joined the job I went out with some of the lads from work, to this Italian place. In advance I thought about what to have, and decided the only thing to avoid would be squid, on the grounds that it looks so disgusting. Needless to say I got nervous and flustered when we arrived, and you can guess what I ended up ordering.’

‘And how was your squid?’

‘Really good actually. I quite often have it now.’

‘So what’s the moral of that story?’

‘You sound like Robinson. Does there have to be one? Maybe that even disgusting looking things can be tasty.’

‘I was thinking that maybe it’s that we should all get outside our comfort zone sometimes. You know, try something new.’

Hall nodded, and they clinked wine glasses. ‘Do you do that then, Jane?’

‘Not as often as I should, but I do mean to. It’s my new May’s resolution.’

‘OK, well I’ll make one too. How about no talking shop while off duty? Especially over dinner.’

Jane Francis smiled. ‘That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all year, Andy. Now, do you need some help with the menu?’

Alec Mann’s evening was going very much to plan. He’d highlighted
Midsomer Murders
in the Radio Times at the weekend, and he was enjoying watching it. He rather liked the scenery, even if the coppers’ working lives didn’t seem very much like his son’s.  And he preferred Bergerac as Barnaby, because he’d already had donkeys’ years experience as a policeman. He always made it look easy anyway.

Later, after it was all over but before Ian arrived, Nobby had asked if Alec Mann had heard anything.

‘Sorry, Nobby, I didn’t. I was in the sitting room watching the goggle-box, so I didn’t hear a thing. Do you think you’ll find my car?’

‘Very likely, Mr. Mann. Now, is anything else missing?’

‘No. They just came in the back door, took my car keys and the garage key, and that’s it. I’ve had that Rover since new you know, nearly twenty years. I’ll give up on the driving job now I think.’

‘Don’t do that. These modern cars are great. They have inflatable tyres and heaters and everything.’

Alec Mann smiled, but he still looked concerned, and older and more frail than Nobby remembered. He’d known Alec Mann since he was a kid.

‘Can I ask you to have a look in the cutlery drawer for me now, Mr. Mann?’

‘Why? Oh, I see, you wonder if they took any knives.’ Alec Mann went and checked, called through that no knives were missing, and walked back in to the living room. Nobby could see that he was worried about something, but not scared. So that was something.

‘Nobby, before Ian gets here, can I ask you one thing?’

‘Of course. What is it?’

‘Don’t tell him the back door was unlocked, there’s a good lad. He’s always on at me about it. But I’ve lived here since 1958, and I’ve never locked the back door until bedtime. Not once.’

‘But you will now?’

‘Aye, I will.’

‘I won’t say owt, but I’m afraid Ian will work it out anyway, so I’d tell him the truth if I were you. There’s no damage to the back door, is there? And Ian was a detective.’