Winter was good. Because Hall almost believed that he really was sorry.
‘But I’m not asking you to do anything,’ Hall said, as calmly as always. ‘Give me access to the case files, and we will take it from there. I’m not looking for any input, or any use of police resources.’
‘No, that’s simply not how it would be, I’m afraid. I’d need to assign an officer, a senior officer, to act as your point of contact, and I simply don’t have anyone that I can spare. As I say, I’m sorry, but I’m just not able to help at this time. There’s simply nothing I can do. I respect your achievements massively, Andy, of course I do, and you were clearly an awesome officer. And I wish you all the best, obviously, but unless we’re required by a court to release the files we won’t be able to do so.’
Awesome? Hall tried to think of another line of attack, one that wouldn’t appear confrontational. One that might even help him to live up to his new found, and singularly ill-deserved, reputation for political acumen. But he couldn’t.
‘I do know that Sarah is thinking about involving a film-maker, who’s interested in possible miscarriages of justice.’
‘The press? Oh, I certainly wouldn’t recommend that approach, Andy. Because these things have a habit of growing arms and legs, and you, maybe even your family, could become part of the story. It’s just what happens, I’m afraid.’
Winter was still smiling, and his body-language, sent nothing but positive, engaged messages. The absolute opposite of what he’d actually said, of course, and most certainly of what he’d meant. Hall nodded. But he didn’t have to think for more than a moment about what to say next.
‘I see. Well, thanks for your frankness, Jon, because you’ve just decided me. I wasn’t sure whether or not going public with this was really in anyone’s interests, but now I’ve decided. I’ll recommend to Sarah that she engages with this person immediately, and I’ll do everything that I can to help him in his work.’
For the first time Hall caught a flicker of something in Winter’s expression. What was it? Surprise? Anger? A little of both, perhaps?
‘Let’s not be hasty, Andy. I’m sure we can find a way through this little impasse.’ Winter paused, but not for long enough for it to be convincing. Hall knew that he was about to hear the offer that Winter had planned to make all along, assuming that Hall didn’t simply fold at the first refusal. ‘How about this, Andy? I give you limited access to the files, here in the archive at HQ, and I’ll appoint DI Jane Francis as your point of contact. Keep it in the family, as it were.’
Hall was surprised, which happened rarely, and it showed. And although Winter couldn’t have known it, that was actually a far rarer event.
‘Jane?’
‘Absolutely. She’s perfect for the job. She knows your little ways, I’ll bet, and she’s very much a modern officer, Andy. Everyone here says so. Destined for great things, that’s the current view of your other half.’
Hall logged the key phrases: ‘modern officer’, and ‘current view.’ Winter intended to hold Jane’s future career hostage against Hall’s compliant behaviour. It was a smart move, Hall conceded to himself, as far as it went, but it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference to how he’d proceed.
‘Does Jane already know about this, Jon?’
‘Not as yet, no. But I will call her myself, and give her the good news. I’m sure that she’ll be delighted to be back in harness with you, Andy, and to have her career progression so inextricably tied to your own decisions and actions. Now, if there’s nothing else, I think we’re about done.’
DC Gail Foster filled in her last form of the day, the ninth relating to a simple shoplifting from Kendal town centre the previous weekend, and looked at her watch. Her shift had been over for half an hour, and so had Ian Mann’s, but he was still showing no signs of stirring. In fact he was scowling at his computer monitor, stabbing at the keyboard, and swearing occasionally. It wasn’t like him to be grumpy, she thought, as she gathered her stuff. He was a little scary, always, but rarely bad tempered.
‘See you tomorrow, Ian,’ she said, stopping next to his desk.
‘Aye. See you then. Have a good night.’
‘I won’t. Evening in with a ready meal for one.’
Mann didn’t look up. ‘Learn to cook, lass. You’re never alone with a wok, like.’
She laughed, then stopped. It was often difficult to tell when Ian was actually joking, because he so rarely cracked a smile.
‘So what are you up to, then?’
‘Bit of a run. Maybe meet a mate later. Nothing much.’
She nodded, and turned to go. Then she stopped and turned back towards Mann.
‘Ian, there was something I wanted to ask you.’
‘Go on then. I’ll not bite. I’ve been on the course, see, and all that’s stopped. Well, I say stopped…’
This time she was pretty sure that he was joking.
‘It was about this morning.’
‘Remind me.’
‘About what that lassie, Lizzie Robinson, said to us. If she grassed on that fat bloke and his mate, would we be able to look after her?’
Mann looked up from his computer. ‘Five years ago, even two years ago I’d have said aye, of course we would. And the likes of Capstone would have known it, too. But the trouble is that they know we’re so bloody short of bobbies. They see it in our response times, who they get interviewed by, all the things they get to skate on that they’d have done six months for a year or two back. They may be thick, but even the cons can read the writing on the wall.’
‘So we’d not be able to protect her?’
‘I’m not saying we wouldn’t nick the bastards, Gail, don’t get me wrong. But that’d be strictly after the event, after she’d had her ribs caved in for her. And by the time it came to court she’d be so shit scared that she probably wouldn’t even be able to go through with it.’
‘So what she said was right, you reckon?’
Ian Mann looked back at his keyboard, and took it out on the space bar.
‘Aye, lass, I suppose she bloody well was, at that.’
Jane Francis half listened to Andy Hall as she was feeding Grace, and made a range of little noises that she hoped would sooth one, or possibly even both of them.
‘There, there. You’re right, Andy, the bloke is a clever bastard. They call him Cromwell at work, you know that? He’s obviously hoping that drawing me into this will get you to self-censor, and not do anything that would drop me in it. That just goes to show that he doesn’t know you at all though, doesn’t it?’
Hall smiled. ‘You don’t mean that, love.’
‘Don’t I? I’m not bloody banking on it. So I suppose you’ll want to start going through the file? I’ll send an email to that old boot in records to authorise you.’
‘I was hoping to start tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow? But I’m at work, remember? What’s the plan with her Grace?’
‘I was going to take her in with me. I doubt there’s a law against it.’
‘Really? Bloody hell, you are keen.’
‘It’ll be fine.’
‘I’m sure it will. Everything will be fine.’
Later, when Grace was down in her cot, and the couple were sitting in the warm garden watching the last of the daylight fade, Jane put her hand on Andy’s.
‘So, love, just a couple of ground rules.’
‘All right’, he said, a little guardedly.
‘Don’t be like that. We both know that the ACC has taken me hostage over this. So anything new you find out, I know it straight away.’
‘Of course.’
‘And no going public with anything until we all know about it.’
‘That would be down to Sarah. It’s her project. But that’s certainly the approach I’d favour.’
‘All right. So what’s your next move, assuming there’s nothing earth-shattering in the file?’
‘Talk to Adam Burke, and Jack Lee too. See how they stack up against what’s in the file, and how they strike me.’
Jane laughed. ’How they strike you? Did you really just say that, love? Are you an imposter? Paging the real Andy Hall. You would have taken a pretty dim view if I’d said something like that in a case conference, back in the day. What happened to just letting the facts do the talking?’
Hall held up his hands, and smiled. ‘You’re right. But I’m not in the job any more, am I? I don’t have to worry about whether or not I’ve got enough evidence to bring charges, and I don’t have to worry about a jury either. All I have to concern myself with is whether or not there is reasonable doubt as to Adam Burke’s guilt. For now, that’s it.’
‘That’s a pretty low bar, love.’
‘Agreed. But maybe someone should have mentioned that to the jury before they sent Burke away for over a decade.’
‘Fair enough, but you know you’ll need much more than reasonable doubt to get a retrial, don’t you love? And at this distance, and with nothing available for forensic re-examination, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.’
‘They didn’t keep her clothes? The chain she was weighted down with? Nothing? Are you absolutely sure?’
‘Aye. Sod all, I’m afraid. After the ACC emailed me about it I checked. All there is in the archive is one box file, just under a thousand pages all told, and no physical evidence extant.’
‘Shit.’
‘Annoying, yes, but not necessarily that important. We’re talking about the mid-nineties love, not the 1970s. All right, DNA testing was nothing like it is now, but it did exist then, so DNA evidence was looked for, in the autopsy and in the examination of the clothing and other materials. Nothing was found remember, not a thing.’
‘I know, but it still would have been good to have another look, wouldn’t it?’
‘Yes, of course. But promise me this, Andy, if you find nothing in the files, and Burke and Lee have nothing to add, then you will walk away, won’t you? You won’t let it become some sort of obsession?’
‘Of course not, love. I’ve always prided myself on keeping a good work-life balance.’
Jane looked at him sharply then, just to check whether or not he was joking. It rather seemed as if he wasn’t, and she wondered, very briefly, what his former wife would have to say about that assertion. And then they both heard the baby crying, and after a couple of minutes Jane set off to settle her again, or to bring her back down.
A lengthy battle of wills ensued, which Grace won, as she usually did. But half an hour later Hall kissed Grace on the cheek when Jane held her towards him like a trophy, or an offering, and he watched as Jane took the baby, finally more than half asleep, back off to bed. He sat still, enjoying the silence, and realised that he felt completely happy. And to cap it all, he just might have a killer to catch.
Wednesday, 8th August
Archive room, Cumbria Police HQ, Penrith
Hall had hoped that Mary, the force HQ archive manager, would soften at the sight of Grace. He had been wrong. But she’d seemed rather happier to see Ray Dixon, and she’d very nearly smiled at one of his slightly smutty jokes. Five minutes later Hall and Dixon were settled at one of the big tables, Hall had split the file into two sections, and Grace was just starting to nod off. For another hour and more there was total silence, as both men read, occasionally making notes as they went.
At lunchtime, when Grace had made the fact that she’d had enough of all this peace quiet very clear to everyone in the archive, Hall returned the file and the three of them left.
‘Fancy grabbing a bite in the canteen?’ asked Dixon. ‘They used to do a mean sausage, egg and chips here.’
‘Chips are off, Ray. Hadn’t you heard? New Chief’s orders. Far too many porky coppers about for his liking. Tell you what, there’s a pub near Eamont Bridge, let’s stop off there. We can probably grab a table in the garden and talk. They do very good home-made pies, if I remember rightly.’
When everyone had eaten, and Grace was asleep again under the shade of her white hat and the awning on the buggy, the two men started to compare notes.
‘I have to be honest, Andy. I’ve seen nowt so far to suggest that Burke didn’t do it, not a bloody thing.’
‘Me neither. But have you seen anything new to suggest that he did?’
‘No, no I have not. But that’s not really the point. Lee’s story stayed consistent at every interview, give or take, although the investigating officers did go pretty easy on him, didn’t they? And as to some unknown third party having been involved? Well, it’s always possible, I suppose, but I don’t really see it.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, take the affair she’s supposed to have been having. There’s just nothing solid, is there? If the husband hadn’t as good as confirmed it the prosecution wouldn’t have been able to establish any kind of motive at all. He shot himself in the foot there, did Adam Burke. He should have just kept his mouth shut about his suspicions.’
‘Suggesting what?’
‘That he was just being honest in everything else he said to our lads? Aye, maybe. Or perhaps he’s just a bit thick, and didn’t see that he was giving the prosecution something that they’d be able to turn against him, no problem at all.’
Hall got up, and checked on Grace. When he sat down again he flicked through his notebook. ‘So what do you make of Burke as a person, and Lee too, come to that?’
‘Well, Burke seems like a funny one, Andy, he really does. I know we don’t have the tapes, and written transcripts do lose some of the information, but Burke just seems so composed the whole time. Almost like he doesn’t know what’s coming. It’s odd, is that. In his situation I’d be absolutely shitting myself, and I was a copper for over thirty years.’
‘Agreed. And what about Lee? Anything strike you about him?’
‘Aye, one thing. And it’s about the only thing that they pressed him on, during the interviews. He claimed that Burke had only told him that he’d killed his wife the day before Lee came forward to us, but he doesn’t offer any reason as to why Burke would wait so long before he blabbed, like.’
‘He didn’t have to though, did he? The investigating officer was inviting him to speculate, and Lee’s brief shut that line of questioning down pretty fast. So they never put the real point to him; namely that if Lee had done it rather than the husband, maybe a few days after Sharon Burke had gone missing, then it made sense for him to wait a good while before grassing up his supposed best mate. Because if Lee did it, but had expected Burke to have been nicked long before, that could be a credible reason for the delay.’
‘Aye, I see where you’re going, and it’s obvious from the transcripts that the investigating officers were thinking much the same. But, like you say, they never really got after Lee at all. And three months in water was plenty long enough to get rid of any trace DNA, back then, anyway.’ He paused. ‘The pictures of the body were pretty hard to take, weren’t they?’
But Dixon was smiling as he said it, because he knew that Hall wouldn’t have looked. Not a chance in a million. He never had, back in the day, not unless he absolutely had to.