Michael Fowler - Secret of the Dead

Dawn studied the faces of the detectives.

“I don’t want to even mention the unmentionable here, that two police officers perjured themselves to convict an innocent man of murder, but if the notes from Howson’s safe are the originals of Daniel Weaver’s final interview, then that is what we are looking at. And if that is the case, we have to ask ourselves why did Howson hold onto them? Why not destroy them? Because they clearly incriminate him and Alan Darbyshire. Were they some kind of insurance policy? Again, I am speculating. There are a lot of unanswered questions at the moment. But one thing is for sure- someone found out about the existence of those notes and wanted desperately to get their hands on them, even if it meant killing Jeffery Howson. And I guess that is also the reason why he swallowed his safe key to protect the evidence. Without doubt, the finding of this piece of evidence has opened up Pandora’s box, and for now we need to keep a lid on it. The last thing we want is an out of control media frenzy interfering with our enquiry which is still at its early stages. If anyone gets a whiff that the press is onto, this, they report back to me immediately okay?”

She returned her gaze to her handwritten comments on the dry-wipe board.

“Okay everyone, new set of actions.”

Turning to DC Bullars, she said, “Tony I want you to talk to Howson’s ex-wife. I want to know everything about his life. Who his friends and associates were during his CID days. I especially want you to see what you can learn about him during nineteen-eighty-three, when he was involved in the Lucy Blake-Hall case. We know from Katherine, his daughter, that he was separated and divorced a year later, so something had gone wrong in his marriage during this time. I want to know what that was.”

She switched her look. “Hunter and Grace, I want you two to find out where retired DCI Alan Darbyshire is living now, and go and talk to him about his CID days, particularly his partnership with Howson. I do not want him to know he is under scrutiny at this stage and I especially don’t want him to know about the discovery of the interview notes. See if you can sneak in about the Lucy Blake-Hall case without throwing up suspicions. I know that will be hard because he is ex-CID but I’m sure you’ll come up with some way of doing that.” She smirked at Hunter.

“We also have additional tasks, which DI Scaife will allocate after this briefing. The house-to-house forms have thrown up a number of enquiries, none earth-shattering, but they need to be bottomed and he has also drawn up a list of fresh actions from the Lucy Blake-Hall case. At this stage we have potential links, and although it doubles our workload they need to be established. I want all the main witnesses from the original investigation tracking down, and I want them interviewing as if it was a fresh enquiry. And find out which prison Daniel Weaver is serving time in. I know that the added enquiry is complicating matters. Lucy’s disappearance was twenty five years ago, but do your best guys. That’s it for now. Thank you all for giving me your fullest attention. There is a lot of work to do, but I know you will come up trumps.”

As she watched her new team move into action she realised the earlier tightness in her stomach had completely gone.

That’s a good thing she told herself. It was a sign she was back to her old self. Back to being in control.

* * * * *

“Push up girl, let me get in,” Barry Newstead said, wheeling his chair next to Grace and pushing her aside with his elbow. He tucked his legs under her desk and glanced between her and Hunter before hunching over.

“Listen, I did a little bit of digging last night,” he said, lowering his voice as if it was a private conversation between the three of them. “I contacted a few of my old colleagues to get the low-down on Jeffery and Alan Darbyshire after you told me about those interview notes. I’ll just tell you what I found out before you go and see Alan.”

Hunter’s brow creased.

“Don’t worry I didn’t tell them anything about the investigation, especially about the Lucy Blake-Hall link. I made out I was just after background stuff about Jeffery and his work and was chasing up anyone he knew or worked with him. It wasn’t easy getting stuff out of them. You know what the job was like back then. Nothing was ever straightforward and detectives took chances. Some are starting to distance themselves from Jeffery, not exactly clam up but they’re not so forthcoming about what he got up to. And I’m afraid I’m not much of a help. You see, although I knew him and Alan Darbyshire, they were part of another team, the only time we ever got together was during major incidents, and even then we worked with our own partners, so except for seeing them round the office and hearing what collars they had brought in, I had very little to do with the pair. To be honest, Alan Darbyshire grated on me. He was a bit too flash for my liking. Used to come to work dressed like a tailor’s dummy, three piece suit, matching tie and handkerchief, the works. And he always had to go one better. If you’d done a job well, he always let it be known that he’d done a similar one and better. And his villains were always more important than yours. I guess that’s why he got promoted.” He shook his head, cinched his lips together and huffed.

Hunter cut in. “Do I detect pangs of jealousy, Mr. Newstead?”

“Jealousy my arse! I could match him any day. It was the way he used to shout his mouth off in the office whenever he got a good collar. Don’t get me wrong, he did get some good results. He must have had some damn good informants on the go. It was just the way he went about things, always running into the gaffer’s office when he cleared a job up. It used to wind me up. I guess that’s why he got promoted and I didn’t.” He pursed his lips again. “Anyway that’s what I remember about him and I’m afraid I can’t help you with the years we’re focusing on because I transferred across to Headquarters Serious Crime Squad. So what I’ve done is track down who was in the office at that time to see what they could recall. I never mentioned Alan by name but a couple of my old colleagues actually dropped out his name during conversation and said that the pair were pretty thick with one another.” His mouth set tight. “And by that comment I mean thick as thieves. They were partners not just in work but it appears that they were close socially as well. A couple of the lads have said to me that from what they remember Alan and Jeffery sailed pretty close to the wind at times.”

“Didn’t every detective, during the eighties?” said Hunter. “You’ve already acknowledged that detectives took chances. I remember some of the things I learned from you, and your stories.”

“Not like that Hunter, not with the job, but outside of it. It appears the pair of them were regular visitors to a strip joint. Not just a strip club, it was also believed to be a knocking-shop. Back then, places of that ilk were well dodgy, and it was an absolute no-no to frequent them unless you were doing an operation. Well, talk in the office was that these two were regular visitors, and it was even hinted at that they were taking favours from the girls, and in exchange tipped off the owner every time it was due to be raided. Also one of my ex-colleagues mentioned that the pair were renowned for holidaying in Spain. Two, to three times a year, they’d go with their wives. Benidorm I’ve been told. In the same villa every time. Belonged to some businessman. No one’s said anything about them being bent or anything, and to be honest they were renowned for working loads of overtime, so they could easily afford holidays abroad. Their arrest rate was very good, especially on the important jobs, and because they kept the detection figures high they were the gaffer’s blue-eyed boys.” Barry pushed himself back in his chair. “What would you do without a real detective being around eh?” he grinned. “Well that should give you two a little bit of a heads up when you start pumping him for background stuff.”