Peter Lovesey - The Secret Hangman

‘Anyone I know?’ Diamond said, trying to sound cool about it.

‘Two of them are cousins, little more than juveniles.’

‘From Kosovo?’

‘I don’t think so. They sound quite British to me. Craig Curly and Hugh Short.’

‘Or Short and Curly?’

Georgina clicked her tongue and let out a sharp, angry breath. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose they could be made-up names.’

He thought so, too. He wouldn’t mind betting they were also known as Romney and Jacob, those woolly extras in Operation Fleece. Someone in this scam had a twisted sense of humour. ‘You said there was a third?’

‘Gary Jackman, who runs a car repair business. He did a six-month stretch for changing the plates on stolen cars.’

Young Paul Gilbert’s unreliable informer. Georgina had wandered into a minefield. How much did she know? ‘He’s known to us already. Pondlife.’

‘The point is, Peter, it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to tell us that Ballance Street was being used to plan robberies. We haven’t yet discovered Harry Lang’s true identity, but we now know why he took flight when you arrived with a squad car.’

‘You’re thinking these are the ram-raiders?’

‘It adds up, doesn’t it? Lang clearly has a source of money. He owns a good car. You don’t expect a council-house tenant to be driving a brand new Subaru.’

‘Ill-gotten gains?’

She nodded. ‘I’m not against immigration. It brings this country many talented and decent people, but you’re going to get some crooks as well. Lang could be the ringleader. We can’t be certain until we question him. Meanwhile Gary Jackman will do for starters.’

He swallowed hard. ‘You want to question Jackman?’

‘He’s waiting downstairs.’

‘What — have we pulled him in?’

‘On my authority. Don’t look so alarmed, Peter. I’m not taking over. Which of you is running the ram-raid inquiry now?’

He had to think. ‘DI Halliwell, ma’am. He’s been helping me this afternoon, seeing that not much was happening on the ram-raid front.’ Halliwell knew Jackman was on the payroll. He’d handle this with kid gloves.

Georgina drew herself up again. ‘Tell Mr Halliwell that when he can drag himself away from other duties he has the little matter of an interview to conduct.’ She swaggered off like the gunslinger who has just cleaned up the town.

Clive the computer man was at work in the incident room when Diamond looked in. Halliwell had already handed him Dalton Monnington’s laptop.

‘Have you cracked the password?’ Diamond asked.

‘Working on it. What exactly am I looking for, Mr D?’

‘If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t have brought you in. A list of his clients would be good.’ He called across to Halliwell, ‘Did you fetch the plastic cords from Monnington’s car?’

Halliwell held up an evidence bag.

‘Good. What we want now is the cord used to hang Jocelyn Steel. Should be in the evidence store. We compare them, of course, and if they’re similar we look at the ends and see how they were cut. If we’re really lucky they join like two halves of a loaf and bingo, we’ve got him.’

‘I’ll see to it, guv.’

‘No, you won’t.’

Halliwell frowned. He wanted to be in at the kill. Deserved it.

‘Give it to DC Gilbert. I’m afraid the ACC has other plans for you.’

So it was John Leaman who joined Diamond in interview room one and cautioned Monnington.

The amorous sales rep was sitting with arms folded. His mouth was set in an inverted U-shape, defiance writ large. ‘I want my solicitor and I want to speak to him in private.’

‘Noted,’ Diamond said. ‘The custody clock has started. Let’s get this under way.’

‘Didn’t you hear? It can’t start without my solicitor.’

‘Sorry, my friend. You’re entitled to ask for your brief, and I’m entitled to delay him for up to thirty-six hours.’

A glare. He didn’t know if Diamond was bluffing. He was in no position to find out.

‘Police and Criminal Evidence Act. I’ll confirm that in writing if you wish. At this stage I’m giving you a chance to earn some goodwill. Where can we find Martin Steel?’

‘No comment.’

‘Don’t be awkward, Dalton. This is one life you can save. Where’s he being kept?’

‘I want my solicitor.’

‘I told you. You must wait.’

‘In that case, so must you.’

‘Is Steel dead already?’

‘No comment.’

‘Because if he isn’t and you cooperate, we can make this whole experience less uncomfortable. Do you smoke?’

Monnington shook his head.

‘Coffee? Clears the brain.’

Another shake of the head.

‘You see, this thirty-six hours allows us time to check the evidence. We’ve got DNA from your comb. We’re looking at your laptop. The plastic cord from your car boot is being minutely examined. It’s all over for you really.’

Monnington didn’t look unduly worried.

Inside, Diamond was seething. He turned to Leaman. ‘We’ve got a silent one, John. No point in running the tapes when nobody is speaking. Why don’t you turn them off for a bit?’ This was meant to alarm Monnington, and did, the more so when Diamond stood up and took off his jacket.

‘No,’ Monnington said. ‘Leave them running.’

‘Why? Have you got something to say?’

‘I’m protecting my rights.’

‘Stuff your rights,’ Diamond said, coming round the table.

‘What about the rights of that poor sod you’ve got trussed up in some godforsaken hole?’

‘You’re mistaken.’

‘Where is he, then? Sitting at home with his feet up? I don’t think so.’

‘I know nothing about this.’

‘Did you fit a jacuzzi at the Steels’ house in Midford? Jocelyn and Martin Steel?’

‘In point of fact, no.’

‘Oh, come on, Monnington. Let’s not split hairs. You may not have installed it, but you sold it to them. We found the invoice in their filing system. Give it a Whirl. That’s your company, right?’

‘It wasn’t a jacuzzi. It was a hot tub.’

This, at least, was progress. He remembered the job. The link to the Steels was admitted.

‘Tell me the difference,’ Diamond said with an effort to be patient.

‘A jacuzzi uses an air system. Bubbles. A hot tub works on a different principle altogether, using jets of water.’

Diamond glanced at Leaman. ‘The things you learn in this job.’ He went back to his chair and nodded to Leaman to resume the tape-recording. ‘So you don’t deny visiting the Steels to sell them their hot tub?’

‘Two years ago,’ Monnington said. ‘That was all of two years ago.’

‘We’re getting somewhere. You admit they were clients?’

‘That’s no crime.’

‘Taken together with your attempts to start a relationship with another of the victims, Delia Williamson-’

‘Relationship?’ he broke in. ‘I flirted with a waitress.’

‘Gave her your hotel room number. If she’d come knocking on your door as you planned, would you have let her live? You like them begging for it like Lottie Brown, don’t you? You’re a sexy devil. But you get nasty when they ignore you.’

He looked away.

‘We’ve got your number, Dalton. You can’t take rejection. Killing them isn’t enough. You have to punish them, make an example of them by stringing them up. And when the boyfriends and the husbands come looking, they get the same treatment.’

Monnington shook his head and said nothing. But his hands were shaking.

‘All right,’ Diamond said. ‘Let’s leave your twisted thinking for later. Where can we find Martin Steel?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘I told you, it’s over, Dalton. The killing is over. No way are you going to string this man up. Is he dead already?’