‘I believe Charles Stanford,’ Wendy said in the office at Challis Street. ‘He was telling the truth this time.’
‘If he was,’ Isaac said, ‘what can we do with this information? We can’t go asking McIntyre directly if he made a phone call on a specific date to an individual about a crime at Bedford Gardens, can we?’
‘We have to somehow,’ Larry said.
Isaac was pleased that the man had turned the corner. He hadn’t been sure that Larry would succeed, as alcohol is seductive to some, but so far, he had. It was in large part due to his wife’s encouragement and that of his colleagues in the department. The danger was when everyone became complacent.
‘We can speculate,’ Isaac said. ‘Why would McIntyre be interested in Marcus Matthews’ body being discovered? If he hadn’t killed him, which we know he hadn’t, then why did he want the body found? And how long had he known that it was there?’
‘It had been six years,’ Larry said. ‘Did he know that it had been there for all that time? And if he did, why hadn’t he told his daughter? We’ve got more questions than answers.’
‘Is there a question?’ Bridget said. ‘I couldn’t find out who made the phone call to Stanford. If Hamish McIntyre knew the body was there, then he knows the murderer. Do you have knowledge of his associates, the sort of person who could commit murder?’
‘McIntyre’s associates wouldn’t have gone through such a convoluted exercise. And they wouldn’t have entered into any sort of agreement with Matthews,’ Isaac said. We’ve discussed this before, we’re looking for an ethical man, a man of strong morals.’
‘A criminal with a conscience,’ Larry said.
‘Not necessarily a criminal. We know that Matthews, apart from his criminal activities, had a strong social bent, an underlying ethic.’
‘Doesn’t help,’ Larry said. He couldn’t see their conversation going anywhere. If McIntyre was important, then he needed to be pressured.
‘Hassle McIntyre, is that what you’re thinking, Larry?’ Isaac said. They had worked together for some years now. He knew instinctively what Larry would be thinking. He was a bull in a china shop type of police officer, the sort that goes in guns blazing, although Isaac knew that wasn’t the best analogy, as no police officer was armed unless they had the authority. They’d had a case a couple years back when the need to carry weapons had been agreed to. Larry had taken one for a while, so had Isaac, but he had never been comfortable with the idea. Wendy had refused. In the end, the man who had killed four came meekly, and no weapons had been necessary.
‘How else do you expect us to get to the bottom of this?’
‘Where is Stanford now? Back in his home?’
‘We’ve got Wally Vincent keeping tabs on him. He went around to check the other day, even got an invite in for a cup of tea. Stanford’s turned over a new leaf, although Wally’s not confident it will last.’
‘A clear conscience?’ Wendy said.
‘Stanford thought that McIntyre may be involved with the trafficking of women.’ Isaac said.
‘It will be almost impossible to prove,’ Larry said. ‘And besides, what would he have done? It’s usually the gangsters back in the country of origin who are responsible.’
‘He could have financed the transportation, ensured that the lorries they were coming in on had been modified for the transportation of human cargo. He could have dealt with the drivers, bribed them as necessary, threatened others. And once the women were in the country, he could have arranged the safe houses. Any sign of occupation at Bedford Gardens?’
‘We’ve all seen the report from the crime scene investigation team,’ Larry said. ‘No one has lived in that house for a long time.’
‘Before that?’
‘Dust accumulates over the years, and everyone would have been looking at the period pertinent to the crime.’
‘Who owned it before him? Check it out, talk to them. See if there’s anything untoward.’
‘The locals might have seen something,’ Bridget said.
‘People mind their own business, you know that,’ Larry said. ‘If they had been slipping women in late at night, one or two at a time, and confining them to a room, keeping them quiet, nobody would have noticed anything. Nobody had seen Charles Stanford go in there eleven months ago.’
‘Larry’s right,’ Isaac said. ‘People are blind, and if it doesn’t affect them directly, they don’t get involved. What happens if people see something that makes them feel uncomfortable? Do they report it to the police, or do they walk on by?’
‘Walk on by most of the time,’ Wendy said. She had had a car stolen from outside her house one night. A man walking his dog later admitted that he had seen the felon, thought nothing of it, even though the man had a crowbar on the door handle. It was human nature, she knew that. Mind your own business, look out for yourself, and endeavour to have a peaceful life.
‘I’ll find out what I can about the house,’ Bridget said. ‘Give me a couple of hours, and I should have something for you.’
‘In the meantime,’ Isaac said, ‘McIntyre. We need to revisit him, but we need to be very careful.’
***
Armstrong followed Hamish McIntyre’s instructions, up to a point. He wasn’t going to harm Jacob, Hamish had been clear on that, but there was no reason why he could not scare the man. Too many years in prison had made him distrustful of anyone until proven to the contrary.
He had drawn up alongside Jacob. Hamish had described how he had remembered him, skinny, looked like a weasel.
Armstrong leant out the window of the Mercedes. ‘Jacob, over here,’ he said.
‘What for?’
‘We spoke on the phone.’
‘Hamish?’
‘The name’s Gareth, Gareth Armstrong. I work for the man. He
