‘Let me help you, boy,’ Mumford said and, with his back to the traffic, smacked Jason in the mouth, not too hard but hard enough.
The boy was still choking on the chip while Mumford was propelling him down the street to the left and across the car park, back towards the underside of the bridge. Figuring that under the bridge was best. Be nobody about on this side. Nice bit of dereliction, fair bit of cover.
Plenty of time, plenty of river. And he had the bastard who, one way or another, had murdered Robbie Walsh.
40
Heavier Than You Know
‘Ledwardine vicarage,’ Lol said.
‘Is the vicar there?’ Woman’s voice, local accent.
Lol said the vicar was out and asked if he could take a message.
He was unhappy. He’d answered two calls so far from parishioners, both of whom seemed to have recognized his voice, neither of whom had wanted to discuss the nature of their business with him. The tones suggesting that they thought the vicar was not out at all but was perhaps upstairs, sobbing into her pillow, aching from dozens of bruises in places where they wouldn’t show.
‘When will she be back? I mean, can you contact her? Has she got a mobile?’
‘No, she hasn’t. Not at the moment. I can’t contact her, I’m afraid.’
Lol heard a door opening behind him. Jane came into the scullery, looking flushed, followed by Eirion.
‘Damn,’ the woman said. ‘Look, if she comes in, can you get her to ring me. Like, just me, OK? Anybody else answers, don’t talk to them. Can you tell her that? My name’s Karen Dowell. Tell her I’m Andy Mumford’s… something or other, relation. She’ll know.’
‘Oh. You’re calling from police headquarters.’
Pause. ‘Who are you, exactly?’ Karen Dowell said.
‘My name’s Lol Robinson. I’m a… friend.’
Jane was making handle-turning motions at him, to wind this up. He tucked the phone between his shoulder and his cheek and raised both hands at her.
‘OK,’ Karen Dowell said, ‘I know who you are. Mr Robinson, have you heard from Andy?’
‘No, but I’ve had Bliss here.’
‘I know that. He said he was going to talk to the vicar. They all seem to trust the vicar.’
‘He talked to me instead.’
‘Where exactly is Mrs Watkins?’
‘She’s in Ludlow.’
‘Damn,’ Karen said. ‘Listen, can I really trust—’
‘Yes, you can.’
‘Not a word to Bliss, not to anybody, apart from the vicar and Andy, if he calls.’
‘I understand,’ Lol said.
‘Don’t even make notes, you only need the sense of this.’
‘OK.’
‘I’ve been doing PNC checks for Andy — police computer, yeah?’
‘Right.’
‘And following stuff up. I’m good with computers, it’s my thing. Checked out a number of people connected with the Plascarreg, which you don’t need to know about. The one you do need to know about is Jonathan Swift.’
‘The writer?’
‘It’s a guy in Ludlow who Andy asked me to check a few days ago. He calls himself something else there, but this is the name in which his car’s registered. He hasn’t got a record, but I’m always suspicious when there’s a name change involved, so I made a few calls. We had a previous address for him in Cheshire, near Stockport, so I belled a bloke I was at the police college with, works at Greater Manchester Police. Keeping it off the record. And he put me onto another guy, OK? I’m stressing again that this is unofficial, Mr Robinson, and only for (a) Andy, (b) the vicar, right? My neck’s gonner be on the block here.’
‘Is this a man called Jonathan Scole?’
‘That’s correct. His real name’s Swift, and the crux of it is his parents were shot dead. Both of them. They… you there, Mr Robinson?’
‘Yes.’
‘You on your own?’
Lol caught Jane’s eye, pointed at the door. ‘Yes.’
‘All right: Swift’s parents ran a transport caff — greasy spoon, yeah? They were shot as they were leaving at closing time, just before midnight. Takings stolen. I remember this one, actually, although no reason you would. Major police hunt, but nobody ever caught. Very efficient. Head shots with a handgun. Well, no shortage of them in the Manchester area these days.’
‘Recently?’ Lol nodded as Jane shrugged and slipped out, with Eirion.
‘Last year. I’ve got the date somewhere, but that don’t matter. Bit of a puzzler, though, because the takings came to just over three hundred. Peanuts, in other words. Two people shot dead at close range, for three hundred? Even in Manchester, you don’t get that. It was on
‘And so… what’s the significance?’
‘Contract killing,’ Karen said. ‘That’s the whisper. That’s the unspoken. Not a shred of evidence, mind.’
‘The parents were, like, underworld figures?’
‘Good God, no, they were respectable people who worked day and night and didn’t even have any points on their driving licences. Contract killing en’t what it used to be, Mr Robinson. Too many guns about now, and too many evil little buggers who’ll do it for a thousand or less.’
‘So this guy in Ludlow changed his name… because his parents were murdered?’
‘He changed his name, originally, on police advice, because people started pointing the finger. Collected a lot of money, see — sale of a house, sale of a cafe to a national chain looking for a site. Now, he was personally in the clear — away on a business-studies course. Full alibi. But, as I say, neighbours and friends of Mr and Mrs Swift were whispering about terrible domestic rows. Had a temper on him, see. Not a happy family.’
‘Look,’ Lol said, feeling his chest going tight, ‘can you spell this out? What are we worrying about, in particular? I don’t know this guy, but I think Merrily does.’
‘Well, Mr Robinson, I don’t know, do I? I’m just passing on what I’ve discovered. It might be something or nothing. But I’d feel real bad if I hadn’t passed it on and then something happened. Which is why I’m telling you now rather than wait till Andy shows up. And that’s another problem, ennit?’
‘If I’m allowed to write your number down,’ Lol said, ‘I’ll call you back if I hear from Andy.’
‘That would be very good of you, long as you remember—’
‘Don’t talk to anyone else, if you’re not there.’
‘That’s exactly right,’ Karen said.
Jane didn’t even ask who he’d been talking to. She pressed him into a chair in the kitchen, knelt down facing him, gripping the chair arms.
‘Lol, listen… just listen, and then answer the questions. When Jack Fine from
‘Jane, we need to swap over.’ Lol pushed himself up, patting his jeans to make sure he had his car keys. ‘You need to stay here, and I have to go over to Ludlow.’
‘Huh? Mum is OK, isn’t she?’
‘I’m sure she’s fine. Just some things I need to tell her.’
‘What things?’
