Shame the Devil, page 2
‘There are no obvious enemies,’ Neeraj said. ‘We’ve spoken to his employers. Seems he was the near-perfect employee. Always turned up for work on time, got on with the other members of staff and was popular with the clients. No one had a bad word to say about him.’
‘Someone clearly didn’t like him,’ Kinsella said. ‘They disliked him enough to stick a knife in his guts.’
Kinsella was a gruff DS who’d been around for years. The only original member of this particular team, he was never shy when it came to reminding the others that he liked to be shown a bit of respect.
‘A motive would help,’ Trudi Bell said. ‘A jealous ex is a possibility, or maybe he owed money to someone?’ At thirty-five, Trudi was two years older than Molly. Unlike Molly, who preferred to wear tailored trouser suits to work, Trudi generally opted for a slightly more casual approach: tight-fitting skirts and low-cut blouses.
Molly and Trudi went way back. They’d been friends before Molly had joined the team. Sometimes it was reassuring to have another woman to help distract from the raw machismo that accompanied these briefings.
‘Both are possibilities we need to explore,’ Denning said. ‘And anything else that comes to light.’
‘Are we ruling out a crime of passion?’ Kinsella said. ‘His missus didn’t do him in after they argued about whose turn it was to peel the spuds?’ He looked around the team for a reaction. It was sometimes difficult to tell when Kinsella was joking. ‘I mean,’ he added with a sardonic look on his face, ‘have we checked her out for previous?’
‘I don’t think it was his partner,’ Molly said, rolling her eyes. ‘For a start, he was stabbed on the doorstep. She was in the kitchen at the time.’
‘Only got her word for that,’ Kinsella replied, then leaned back on his chair with his mouth shut and his arms folded.
‘We’ll wait for Forensics to confirm it, Dave,’ Denning said with a patient look, ‘but early indications would support what Cassie Bane says.’
If Denning was hoping for a reaction from Kinsella, he was going to be disappointed. He just sat there, arms folded looking like he’d already solved the murder and was just waiting for the others to catch up with him.
‘Have we spoken to this neighbour yet?’ Bell asked. ‘The one who had the beef about parking?’
‘We’re going to speak to him later today,’ Denning said. ‘But at this stage it doesn’t look like he was involved. We’ve confirmed with Tyler Nelson’s employers, and he was working yesterday evening: driving between Portsmouth and London. However, it’s still worth speaking to him.’
‘A drugs debt?’ Kinsella said. ‘It’s a possibility. Young lad, into fitness; a partner and a kid. Could be he likes a little something to help him keep the energy levels up.’
‘Except from what his employers said, I get the impression he wasn’t into drugs, at least not in any big way. And with a baby in the house…’ Molly didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t want to come across as naïve: all sorts of people used drugs for a variety of reasons. Being a young father who liked to keep fit was no reason not to indulge in something illegal from time-to-time.
‘All valid points,’ Denning said. ‘But there’s something else we need to consider. It’s just possible Kieran Judd wasn’t the intended victim in the first place and was killed in a case of mistaken identity.’ He looked over at Neeraj. ‘Deep, care to fill us in?’
Neeraj looked around the room, making sure he had everyone’s attention. ‘The couple only moved into the flat a few months ago. Until recently the bloke living upstairs was a nasty piece of work called Tony Hallam. Hallam was released from prison a few months back. I recognised the name, I just couldn’t place him.’
‘Yeah,’ Kinsella nodded. ‘I remember Hallam. He and his brother-in-law, Declan Meech, used to work in tandem. Robbing, sometimes armed. Banks, betting shops. They weren’t fussy. That was until they had a falling-out.’ He folded his beefy arms across his ample chest. ‘Hallam must have made a fair few enemies over the years.’
‘Has anyone spoken to this Hallam bloke?’ Molly asked. ‘I mean if he was the intended target and the killer realises they’ve got the wrong man, then what?’
‘We don’t know for certain the killer did get the wrong man,’ Bell said. ‘Right now, we don’t really know anything.’
‘What else do we know about Tony Hallam?’ Denning asked. ‘What was this supposed falling-out down to?’
All eyes turned to Kinsella. ‘Hallam thinks Declan Meech did the dirty on him last time he was sent down for something that Meech did, or so the rumours go. Hallam got sent down for five years.’
‘That would give Hallam a motive for trying to kill Meech,’ Bell said, ‘but hardly the other way round.’
‘There’s more to it than that,’ Kinsella added. ‘Complicated history between the two. Apparently Meech hates Hallam because of what happened with his sister.’
‘Care to elaborate, Dave?’
‘Maria Hallam claimed Hallam was violent towards her. He denies it. Claims she had been having an affair and made the domestic violence story up to cover her tracks. I don’t know much more than that. But I do know there’s no love lost between the two men.’
‘Could there be any truth in the domestic violence claim?’ Denning asked.
‘A typically male response,’ Trudi said. She looked at Denning, Kinsella and Neeraj. ‘I mean, no offence, guys, but when a woman makes an accusation of domestic violence, there’s usually something in it.’
Kinsella pulled a face that said he wasn’t bothered either way. ‘Whatever the story, the details will be on the system if you want to check it out. Anyway, Hallam and Meech fell out, which is not necessarily a bad thing.’
Denning was curious about the relationship between the two men, specifically before it turned sour. ‘Tell us about Meech, Dave. What kind of character is he?’
‘He’s got a record, naturally. And he’s a ruthless individual: armed robbery with violence, and sometimes the violence was for no other reason than just because he felt like it. He and Hallam had known each other since school. Real birds of a feather.’
‘Gives us a motive right there,’ Neeraj said. ‘If Meech hated Hallam that much.’
Denning looked at Kinsella. ‘What do you think, Dave? Is Meech capable of murder?’
A shrug from Kinsella. ‘A knifing’s a bit neat for him. He’s more likely to batter someone to death.’ Another shrug. ‘But who knows. I doubt he’d lose any sleep if he did kill someone.’
‘But why wait until after Hallam had been out of prison for six months?’ Trudi asked.
‘Maybe it took him that long to track Hallam down?’
‘He’s definitely worth speaking to.’ Molly watched as Denning wrote his name on the whiteboard.
‘Right, Dave. Get on to your contact. Find out everything you can about Tony Hallam and Declan Meech. Especially the nature of this alleged feud between them. Now that Hallam’s out, there’s a possibility it could have escalated. If Meech does have it in for his brother-in-law, then that’s a good enough motive. We’ll need to speak to Hallam.’
‘If you think he’s going to tell us anything,’ Kinsella growled, ‘you can think again.’
‘We have to warn him that his life may be in danger,’ Denning said.
‘Even if he is a scumbag,’ Kinsella added.
‘We’re obviously assuming Meech paid someone to do this,’ Molly said. ‘Taking Dave’s point, and assuming Meech had done this himself then we would expect him to recognise his own brother-in-law, even if it was dark.’
Kinsella nodded. ‘Declan Meech may be no stranger to violence, but something messy like this, he’d get someone else to do the dirty. Probably some daft kid doing it for drugs money.’
‘And if all they had was an address and a vague description,’ Trudi said. Then she shrugged. ‘But isn’t there a worry that we’re being a bit quick in assuming Kieran Judd definitely wasn’t the intended target?’
Denning seemed to give the matter some thought. ‘OK, let’s do a bit more digging into Kieran Judd’s background, see if there’s anything that rings any alarm bells. At least establish him as our intended victim if nothing else.’
‘Waste of time,’ Kinsella muttered under his breath. ‘My money’s on Tony Hallam as the intended victim. Let’s just cut straight to the chase.’
Molly could see Denning thinking this over. Kinsella talked a lot of crap a lot of the time, but sometimes he hit the nail on the head. He’d been a detective for a long time, and as such had developed a copper’s sixth sense for knowing which way the wind was blowing. That didn’t mean he was always right, however…
She was suddenly aware that the briefing was over. Denning was heading towards her desk.
‘Molly, if you’ve got a moment…?’ He perched on the edge of her desk. She could smell his aftershave: something expensive by Tom Ford probably. Everything about Denning was expensive, from his designer suits to his flash apartment in trendy Shoreditch.
‘Sure,’ she said, turning to face him.
‘I’d like you to talk to Maria Hallam with me.’
She glanced over at Neeraj’s desk.
‘Yes, I know it’s Deep’s call, but I think I’d prefer a more sensitive touch.’ Neeraj was good, but he didn’t do subtlety. Sometimes that was a good thing, especially with a suspect who was unwilling to talk. However, there were times when his direct approach caused more problems than they solved.
‘I was going to do a follow-up visit to Cassie Bane,’ she said. ‘But I suppose I could swing round via Maria Hallam first.’
‘Good.’ Denning rose from the desk. ‘I’ll drive. I’ll drop you off at Cassie Bane’s afterwards.’
Chapter Three
Maria Hallam lived in a second-floor flat in a red-brick block on an estate in Hackney, just off Homerton High Street. The flat was tidy and cared for, but it was clear that very little money had been spent on it for some time. Maria was dressed in a pair of jeans and a grey-and-black striped top. She had a slightly pinched look about her face, though that was more than likely down to the exasperation of seeing a couple of police officers standing on her doorstep.
‘I haven’t seen him since your lot got him sent down,’ she said. She showed Denning and Molly into the flat’s sitting room. Tidy, with glass ornaments scattered around the room on shelves and tables. Framed photos of children, but none of her husband, from whom she claimed she was estranged.
‘According to his probationer, this was the address he was officially registered at,’ Denning said.
‘But he hasn’t been here,’ she insisted. ‘He hasn’t lived here since before he went to prison.’
‘What about the children?’ Denning asked.
‘They’re at school,’ she replied, as though she was being accused of being a bad parent as well as the wife of a criminal.
‘I mean, has Tony been in contact with them?’
Maria Hallam threw Denning a withering look. ‘No. I took a court order out against Tony when he was banged up. He hasn’t been near any of us.’
‘Why is that?’ Molly asked.
She stared at her glumly before answering. ‘That’s none of your business. Let’s just say Tony was as rotten a father as he was a husband. They’re better off having nothing to do with him. We all are.’
‘We need to contact him, Mrs Hallam,’ Denning said. ‘He’s no longer living at his last address.’
She shrugged. ‘I can’t help you. I haven’t seen him for months and I don’t want to see him again. How can I get that through to you lot?’
‘What about your brother? Have you been in contact with him recently?’
She looked warily at Denning when he asked the question. ‘Why?’
Denning sighed. ‘We believe Tony’s life may be in danger, and we need to find him and warn him.’
‘What do you mean “in danger”?’
Denning didn’t want to go into detail, so he kept it light. ‘We have information that leads us to believe someone might be going to attempt to harm or possibly kill Tony. I can’t tell you any more than that. But I stress we do need to find him.’
She looked at Denning and then Molly. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t help you. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t want to know.’
‘Can you think of anywhere he might have gone? Any friends? Relatives?’
Another shake of the head. ‘No. All of his friends are criminals, and he has no family.’ She glanced over at the photos of the children. ‘Well, apart from us and, like I’ve tried to tell you, we want nothing more to do with him.’
‘What exactly was the nature of the relationship between your brother and your husband?’ Molly asked.
She stared blankly at Molly before answering. ‘They worked together.’
‘Doing what?’
Maria Hallam’s shoulders twitched. ‘You’d have to ask them about that.’ There was a pause. ‘Tony worked as a painter and decorator until a few years ago. Dec’s a bit of a Jack-of-all-trades, you might say. He can turn his hand to anything.’
Including crime, thought Denning. ‘Both your husband and brother have extensive criminal records,’ he said. ‘Burglary, assault, threatening behaviour.’ He looked at Maria hoping for a reaction, but she continued to stare blankly back at him. ‘I understand that relations between the two men recently soured. Is it possible your brother bears a grudge against your husband?’
She snapped out of her trance-like state and looked sharply at Denning. ‘Look, I don’t know what went on between them and I don’t care. Tony’s no longer a part of my life and I haven’t seen Dec for months. Not since before Tony was sent down.’
That made sense to Denning. It reinforced the feeling that there was a grudge between the two men.
‘You made a claim that Tony assaulted you,’ Molly said. ‘Then you subsequently withdrew that claim. Why was that?’
She shook her head, making it clear she didn’t want to talk about the matter. ‘We had an argument. Tony shouted at me.’ She looked at Molly. ‘But he didn’t hit me. I just said he did because…’ Another shake of the head. ‘I don’t know why I told the police he hit me. I just wanted to punish him. I was angry. It was all ages ago. Why are you brining this up now?’
Denning realised they were getting nowhere. Either she genuinely didn’t know where Tony Hallam was, or she wasn’t going to tell them. Whichever it was, it was clear to Denning that they were wasting their time there.
‘OK,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘I’ll leave you my card and if he does get in touch, or you hear where he is, let me know straight away.’
She took the card and looked at it. ‘I wouldn’t hold your breath.’
Chapter Four
Cassie Bane greeted Molly Fisher with an exasperated smile. She clearly looked like someone who was trying to process a lot of things in her mind.
‘I’m sorry,’ Molly said. ‘I know this is not a good time, but I need to ask you some more questions.’
She was still staying with Beth Marshall. Beth had gone to work that morning. She’d offered to take the day off to sit with Cassie, who had insisted she would rather be on her own, to get her head together if nothing else.
‘You’d better come in,’ Cassie said. Molly had tried not to pay too much attention to what was happening next door. The forensic team was still going over the property, even though Kieran’s body had now been taken to the mortuary awaiting the post-mortem. Uniformed officers would be going door-to-door again, hoping to speak to anyone they’d missed the previous evening, while a public appeal had been launched for any dashcam or doorbell CCTV footage. It was slow-going, but it was often this kind of relentless plodding that gave them their breakthrough: somebody seeing something they didn’t realise was significant but that ultimately led them in the direction they needed to go.
The living room was compact, but clean. Cassie looked like she hadn’t slept, or washed. Her eyes were bleary and voice was hoarse. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’ she offered.
‘Yes, but let me,’ Molly said. ‘I’ll make us a pot of tea.’
She headed to the small kitchen at the back of the flat. It looked like it was a modern extension, probably added when the houses were converted into flats. She found a teapot and a glass jar of teabags in a cupboard. As she waited for the kettle to boil, she thought about what the future would hold for Cassie and her son now that they were alone. In a way, now that Molly was newly single, she felt like she was alone too. Though the circumstances were very different.
Once the tea was made, she returned to the living room, placing the tray on the table by the sofa. She waited for a minute, then poured out two mugs. ‘Milk and sugar?’ she asked.
‘Just milk, thanks,’ Cassie said, and Molly handed her a mug.
‘I appreciate your forensic people have to do their job, but I’m really keen to get back home.’ She looked almost embarrassed to be saying it. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but it’s our home: mine and Arthur’s. And despite what happened to Kieran…’ She started to cry. Molly took a couple of tissues from her bag and handed them Cassie, who dabbed her eyes.
‘I understand. It will probably be another couple of days, Cassie,’ Molly explained. ‘We’ll arrange for a specialist cleaning firm to go in first. I know it’s a small consolation, but it’ll be one less thing to worry about.’
