The Amen Cadence (7 page)

‘Shit.’

‘They beat her to death. Can you fucking believe that? In this day and age. Just bashed her skull in.’

‘Her kids?’

‘They were at school, thank God. But that useless bastard of a husband of hers will get them now, won’t he? They’d be better off in care, the poor little bastards.’

‘This was Dai?’

‘Oh, aye, it was him all right.’

‘Are you sure it’s Linda? Have you seen a picture?’

‘Not of her face, no’. Pepper started crying again, and Henry didn’t know what to do. He stood, awkwardly, then reached out and hugged her, and felt the power of the pain in her sobs. ‘They just sent me a picture of her hands. I recognised the rings.’

Henry had never been so relieved to see Copeland walk into the office, and after Pepper had been to the loo and Copeland had made another round of teas they reconvened in Pepper’s office. She talked about Linda, and Copeland and Armstrong listened. ‘She wanted to be a dancer, did you know that? Aye, she did. We both used to go to classes in town, when we were kids. Her mum paid for us both, like, and Linda was so sure that she was going to make it professionally. She wanted to be a dancer in one of those musicals in the West End, you know. But the closest she ever got was Kendal town hall.’

There was a long silence. Rex hoped that Henry would say something, and in turn Henry hoped, in vain, for Rex to speak first.

‘Don’t worry, Pepper, they’ll catch the bastard’, said Henry, eventually. ‘It sounds like a right amateur job.’

‘Because she was beaten to death with a bit of fucking scaffold pole? A random attack by a nutter? No, DCS Wallace isn’t buying that, and neither am I. Our man picked the weapon up from a building site just down the road from the flat where Linda was staying, and he was waiting for her when she got back from the school drop off. No wits, no CCTV, no forensics. He dropped the murder weapon next to the body, and they’re not optimistic about recovering any DNA, except Linda’s. Substitute a blade or a hand gun for that length of pipe and what have you got? A professional hit.’

‘So why make it so, you know, messy?’

‘To send a message, I expect. He hit her half a dozen times, but the first blow killed her.’

‘That’s something, I suppose.’

‘No, it fucking isn’t, is it, Henry? That’s just what people say. It’s all total bollocks, just like everything else.’

Henry glanced across at Rex, who got the message. His turn.

‘Can we help at all, Pepper? This DCS must want everything we’ve got on Young, in case the bastard who did this travelled down from our patch. I can talk to the intelligence unit, and get whatever we’ve got sent down to West Midlands.’

‘Already done,’ said Pepper, ‘not that it’ll be any help. The file on Dai Young is pathetic, honestly. Like they’re not even bothering. I don’t know how many times I’ve emailed and phoned them with info, but almost none of it seems to be on the file.’

‘So send this DCS everything you’ve got. Copy the Super on it all and you’ll be golden, yeah?’

‘Already done, mate. But I didn’t copy her nibs. I’ll do that now, though.’

‘Nice one. So can we do anything?’

‘Don’t think so. I didn’t have much of real value to send them, to be honest. The names of Dai’s enforcers, plus a few of his other KAs. Linda told me on the phone that she’d seen Vince Boyle hanging about, so he’ll be mixed up in it somewhere, that’s for bloody certain. He’s no killer though, isn’t Vince. Plus, I’ve got one extra bit of intel.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Just a few registration numbers, of vehicles that I spotted at one of Dai’s favourite haunts.’

‘Shit, Pepper, you could get the sack for unauthorised observations, let alone PNC checks.’

‘Relax, Rex, I followed up on that burglary at that industrial unit, remember? And I never even ran the numbers.’

‘Oh, yeah, I do remember. I wondered why you took that one. So it just happened to be next door to a place where Young hangs out, does it?’

‘Same street, aye. Total co-incidence, like, it was. So I logged the numbers of the cars in all the adjacent units, and four of them were outside Dai’s place, including his Merc. Like I say, there was nothing deliberate about it.’

‘We’ll believe you, though thousands wouldn’t. So are you going down to Brum yourself?’

‘I want to, aye, of course, but it’s up to the Super, is that. And I never have a bloody clue what decision she’s going to make about anything anymore. Her head’s so far up her arse these days she can probably lick her tonsils.’

Henry and Rex nodded agreement, although neither of them had the faintest idea what the Super was really like. They both steered well clear at social functions, for fear of being branded brown-nosers by the lads, and apart from the odd station briefing they hardly ever saw Mary Clark otherwise. The bosses breathed different air, and you were always better off if you didn’t try to share any of it.

Afterwards Pepper didn’t phone Mary Clark, but instead forwarded the email that she’d sent to West Midlands, and then set off up the stairs to the Super’s office. Given the speed of their computer system she was in no doubt that she’d arrive well before her email did, which probably wasn’t a bad thing.

Superintendent Mary Clark’s PA told Pepper that Mary was between meetings, and sent her straight in. Pepper could tell immediately that this wasn’t one of Mary’s better days. She’d been looking tired for months, and seemed super stressed all the time now. And that was odd, because when she’d first turned up at Carlisle nick she’d seemed almost serene, and she’d even told Pepper that senior management at HQ were like goldfish in comparison with the political piranhas that she’d had to fight off in her previous job, as deputy head of logistics for a big supermarket chain. But maybe the constant point-scoring and jockeying for the Chief’s notoriously fickle affections had finally got to her.

‘Yes, Pepper,’ she said, pointing towards a chair. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘You haven’t seen my email, ma’am?’

‘Hard to say, love. I get so many, and it’s always difficult to know exactly what you haven’t got, isn’t it?’

‘Too true. Listen, I’ve got some bad news, really bad. My snout, Linda Taylor, she’s been killed, murdered. Beaten to death, actually. Down in the West Midlands. She was living under an assumed name, but it’s her, definitely, I’m afraid.’

‘Jesus. I’m so sorry, love. This is terrible.’

‘And that’s not even the half of it. She phoned me, just the other day, because she was sure she’d seen a local con from up here, a bloke called Vince Boyle, hanging around. He’s a nobody, used to do a bit of TWOCing back in the day, so I told her not to worry about it. Shit, Mary, can you bloody believe that? I told her it was all nowt. And now she’s had her head smashed in, and her kids have lost their mum. Young Tom’s only two.’

Mary Clark buzzed her secretary, asked her for a pot of tea, and to postpone her next meeting.

‘Are we sure that Linda was killed because she informed on Dai’s operation, though?’

‘Aye, absolutely sure. That bastard as good as told me that she was going to get done in, and why else would anyone batter Linda to death? She didn’t have a pot to piss in.’

‘So you’ve passed this info about this bloke who she thought was watching her on to West Midlands?’

‘Aye, I have. I just copied you on the email I sent him.’

Mary Clark looked at her laptop screen.

‘Here it is.’ She read for a moment, scanning the pages. ‘What’s this about intel that’s not on the file, these registration numbers?’

‘Probably nothing, ma’am. I followed up on a burglary near one of Young’s premises, and I noted reg numbers of vehicles parked nearby.’

‘But Young wasn’t under observation at the time?’

‘No, ma’am, certainly not. Anyway, I want to push off down there smartish, see if I can help out a bit. Knowledge of the victim, all that. Their DCS seems keen, like.’

‘I’m sure he does. I bet the bloke would love a couple of days off-budget help from an experienced and motivated officer. And it’s fine, Pepper, so long as he sends me a DI to stand in for you while you’re away.’

‘But, boss….’

‘Sorry, love, but you can’t be spared. Absolutely no way, I’m afraid. And you will be helping the investigation, won’t you? You’ll be talking to this bloke who Linda thinks she saw, plus any other possible persons of interest that West Mids wants to be interviewed.’

‘Too right. I’m straight off with Rex to find the bastard, as soon as we’re done here.’

‘DC Copeland? Are you sure that’s a wise choice?’

‘Aye, why not? He’s my senior DC, and he’ll be a DS soon, if I have my way.’

Mary’s PA brought in the tea, and neither woman spoke as she poured.

‘I was going to talk to you about Copeland anyway, Pepper. Professional Standards have been on to me again.’

Pepper wagged her finger, like a windscreen wiper in a sudden downpour.

‘Oh, no. No way. He was cleared last time, ma’am. It was all just hearsay, and that business in London was completely innocent, no matter how it looked. He was probably set up, right from the off.’

‘There’s been another complaint, Pepper. All right, it’s from a con…’

‘Not Lenny Murphy? He’s so bloody bent they’ll have to bury him in a corkscrew coffin. I wouldn’t believe a word that bastard says.’

‘Maybe not, but you know how it is.’

‘Mud sticks?’

‘No, not that. Do you have to be so bloody cynical all the time, love, or can you take an hour off once in while? What I meant was that we both know that we have to investigate, and be seen to investigate, any such accusations. Did you know that another officer of ours got nicked for suspected corruption the other week? And this Murphy bloke is saying that he’s heard that Copeland is working for Young. He’s gone on record about it too, love.’

‘Christ, Mary, it’s so bloody obvious. A con like Murphy would never grass up Dai Young. He’d have to be totally off his head. He’ll have been put up to it, I guarantee it.’

‘But why? Why put Copeland in the frame?’

Pepper thought about it. ‘I don’t know. To settle some sort of score, or to throw Professional Standards off the trail of whoever our mole actually is.’

‘No, it can’t be that. They’ve as good as closed the internal investigation down, or at least they had. Face it, Pepper, you’re probably wrong about Copeland. He’s connected to the Ferris family, and they’re behind Young’s operation. It’s fact, is that. Don’t get me wrong, Copeland seems like a nice lad, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t bent, does it, love?’

‘No, I suppose it doesn’t. But I’m still taking Rex to see Boyle, unless you’re suspending him.’

‘No, I’m not doing that. Not at present, anyway. But you do need to know one other thing. This Lenny Murphy’s girlfriend, the one who was Copeland’s informant, she’s been talking to Professional Standards and all.’

‘What about? Do you know?’

‘All they’ve told me is that she is directly connected to the Ferris family, and claims to have known Copeland back in London. How much further than that it goes, I have no idea.’

Pepper got up, leaving her tea untouched.

‘It’s all a bloody fit-up, is this, Mary. And if he’s not suspended then we’d better get going. Rex is a good officer, and I’d trust him with my life.’

‘Let’s hope you don’t have to, love’, said Mary Clark, turning back to her computer briefly, then looking back at Pepper. ‘Because he’s dirty, love, and you’re just too bloody loyal, and too bloody stubborn, to admit that fact. But when they do prove it, make sure that you’re not standing too close, and shouting too loud, love.’

Rex Copeland didn’t need Pepper’s directions to get to the rambling roadhouse of a pub on the edge of Carlisle’s biggest housing estate. He’d been there before, more than once, and never for a quiet drink. It was only ever to nick some nobody, whose name he’d instantly forget, with bad tattoos and worse teeth. The massive cross of St. George flag behind the bar was probably code for the kind of clientele who were most welcome, and a black police officer was, doubtless, a very long way down the guest list. Not that he gave a shit about what they thought. And Pepper had been certain that Vince Boyle would be in this dump, what with it being a time of the afternoon, and he wasn’t about to argue. She seemed to carry a gazetteer for the criminal classes around in her head, and they rarely had to visit two locations before finding their quarry.

The pub was almost empty; cavernous and quiet. The TVs were off too. That was odd, so maybe they hadn’t paid for their electric. Copeland couldn’t see the whole room from the door, because the island bar was in the way, but he did see two or three shapes moving away from him, towards the open fire exits on the far wall. He had no idea which one Boyle was, but it didn’t really matter, because Pepper knew. He nodded to the barman as he passed, and strolled towards the closest fire door. A big, shaven headed bloke got up and blocked his path, and Copeland did the dance with him for a few seconds. There really was no rush. But when the bloke laughed at him, showing the letterbox where his front teeth had been, Copeland decided he’d had enough.

‘Sit down now, or your nicked.’

‘What for?’

‘Obstruction, obviously.’

The big man sat, and Copeland was slightly disappointed. He just fancied putting fatty on his arse. Still, it wasn’t what he was there for. And when he walked out into the light Boyle was already cuffed.

‘What kept you?’ asked Pepper.

‘I got asked to dance.’

‘Nice girl, was she?’

‘Lovely.’

Neither officer spoke as Copeland drove them back to the station, despite Boyle’s constant enquiries.

‘Save it for the tape, Vince’, was all that Pepper said, making sure that Boyle heard her calling ahead to make sure that the duty solicitor would be available.

‘What do I need a brief for?’ Boyle asked, but Pepper just turned on the car radio, and started singing along to ‘I do not hook up.’ Copeland already knew how awful she was, and Boyle quickly found out.