‘ Henry, are you off your tree? I’ve come here in all good faith as the result of a very mysterious phone call and you lay something on me I just do not understand. Tell me what you’re on about, or else I’m off.’
‘ What has Rupert Davison told you about me?’
‘ Nothing.’
‘ Have you seen and used a statement by a guy called Frank Jagger in your investigation into Jacky Lee’s murder? In particular when interviewing Gary Thompson and Gunk Elphick?’
Connor shook his head.
‘ Did you know an undercover operation was going on regarding Jacky Lee?’
‘ No.’
Henry closed his eyes in deep despair and dropped his head.
‘ Henry, what the hell are you talking about here?’
Malcolm Fitch. Date of birth 16.11.1940, Blackburn, Lancashire. Two convictions, 1982, 1984. Both for conspiracy to rob. OIC in both cases Detective Inspector Barney Gillrow, a Lancashire officer seconded to the Regional Crime Squad, based in Bolton. File held at that office.
Having purged her body of everything that was making her unwell, Danny now felt much better. Her head still throbbed unrelentingly, but the stomach pains and cramps had disappeared. She was half human again, but obviously still half dead.
She read the PNC printout again and highlighted the salient points with a pen, thrilled that at last she was looking at the identity of the third dead body from the vehicle inspection pit. She had been on to the Fingerprint Bureau to ask them to double-check the details and they promised a result by the end of the day.
There was no current address for Fitch and it would appear he had not come to police attention since his last conviction fourteen years ago. What she needed to do was start pulling together some up-to-date information on him ASAP. Her gaze settled on the name of the officer who had dealt with Fitch. Perhaps he would be a good starting point. She wondered if she knew Gillrow, but the name didn’t ring any bells with her. The fact that he was a Detective Inspector in 1984 suggested he might not even be in the job now. Could be retired. Might even be dead.
First port of call was the HR department at Headquarters to find the current status of Gillrow.
Five minutes later, her fears were confirmed. Gillrow had retired in 1990 and was now living in Tenerife.
Danny gave her temple a knock with the base of her hand and tried to concentrate, devise a way ahead. She looked at the details of the dead man again and those of the former DJ. HR had provided Danny with an overseas phone number for Gillrow and she thought that starting with him would be as good a place as any. She picked up the phone and dialled the number. It connected remarkably quickly and rang out clearly. No one answered. She hung up after two dozen rings, intending to try later.
Her next avenue was to the Field Intelligence Officer (FIO) at Blackburn, a detective she knew well from her days in the town many years before. This time, even though she was calling internally, the line was nowhere near as clear as the overseas one had appeared to be.
‘ Danny Furness! A rave from the grave! How are you, gal? Haven’t seen you in ages.’
‘ Doing great,’ she said, holding the phone away from her ear. ‘And you?’
They exchanged the requisite pleasantries before Danny posed the question about Fitch, deceased, of that parish.
The FIO interrogated Lancashire Constabulary’s own computerised intelligence system first — but it came up with nothing about Fitch. ‘Doesn’t mean to say we don’t have anything on him. I’ll check the manual files. Hang on…’ The phone was placed on a desk. Danny heard cabinet drawers sliding open, some background chatter, the tapping of a computer keyboard. Eventually the FIO came back on the line. ‘Nothing in the active files, Danny, but there is a file in the “dead section”. An old one… dum de dah… let’s have a looksee
… no, nowt since the mid-eighties. I take it he’s reappeared on the scene?’
‘ In a manner of speaking. Being in the dead section is remarkably apt — he’s the third body in the job over here. Just identified him this morning.’
‘ Oh, interesting… which possibly means he’s been bang at it and we didn’t know. He’s obviously upset someone.’
‘ Upset is a little mild. Really upset, I’d say.’
‘ There is a marker on the file. Any interest to you?’
‘ Go on.’
‘ It’s an RCS reference, now NCS of course. Bolton office. Got a pen? I’ll read it out.’
Danny noted it down, asked the FIO to copy the file and send it immediately to her.
Next she opened the Police Almanac and found the number for the NCS office at Bolton and made a similar request to the one she’d initially made of the FIO. The woman she spoke to took details and promised to ring back within ten minutes, which she did.
‘ I can confirm that we do have a file in that name. Can’t give you any details over the phone, though.’
‘ Why not?’
‘ Policy.’
‘ Can you send me a copy by fax?’
‘ Only if you have the necessary authority.’
‘ Does it make any difference if I tell you the guy is dead and I’m investigating his murder?’
‘ Not to me.’
Bitch, Danny thought uncharitably. ‘I’ll get back to you.’ She hung up her phone with exaggerated softness, speculating as to why the woman would not give out the details. Maybe Fitch was more than just a target. An informant, possibly. She sniffed up, then dialled the overseas number again, but got no reply.
‘ So you are telling me that you have no idea about the statements made by me and Terry regarding Jacky Lee’s murder?’ Henry’s voice was incredulous.
‘ Swear it.’ Connor crossed his heart.
‘ And you didn’t know there was an undercover operation up and running against Lee and subsequently against Gunk and Gary?’
‘ Hope to die.’
‘ Shit.’ Henry shook his head in major disbelief ‘What the hell is Davison playing at? He said he would tell you, his deputy, about me, Terry and the statements.’
‘ I have picked up on some odd goings-on with him, I have to admit. For instance he actually interviewed Thompson and Elphick himself, which is pretty damn unusual. Came out from both interviews saying neither had made any admission — which we knew, because they’d already been spoken to by interview teams anyway. He justified himself doing the interviews by saying that someone had to have a real good stab at them as none of the interviewing team seemed to be getting anywhere.’
‘ Presumably the interviews were taped?’
Connor nodded.
‘ Have you listened to them?’
‘ No. Davison kept hold of the copy tapes. The master copies are sealed and stored in the system by now.’
‘ That’s obviously when he let it slip, intentionally or otherwise, to Gunk and Gazzer about mine and Terry’s statements,’ Henry concluded. ‘The stupid man! I’m just… speechless — and angry. Just what the hell does he think he’s playing at?’
‘ I have an idea on that score,’ Connor said.
Henry waited.
‘ He’s got six unsolved murders on his plate at the moment, not including Jacky Lee. I don’t think the murders are connected in any way or anything like that, except that none of the offenders have been arrested and charged yet. There’s a feeling going round the Force that if they’d all been better managed from the top, there would have been results by now. For what it’s worth, I think Davison is getting twitchy and he’s panicking. This could be a last-ditch effort to get a good result by whatever means possible.’ Connor shrugged. ‘But it’s only a theory.’
‘ And a bloody good one. He got me hammered. I could just as easily be dead now,’ Henry whined bitterly.
