Shame the Devil, page 9
‘Maria, if Tony’s life is in danger, you need to tell me everything you know. He’s still the father to your children.’
Whether his words had pricked her conscience, or she just wanted him off her back, she suddenly became animated. Shuffling uncomfortably on the narrow barstool at the raised kitchen table.
‘Declan would never harm Tony. Declan thinks more of Tony than he does of me. Oh, yeah, he talks tough when it comes to looking after me and the kids, and don’t get me wrong, if Tony ever pushed his luck Declan would put him straight, but he and Tony have been mates for years. Long before me and Tony got together. There’s no way Dec would ever risk his friendship with Tony, no matter what anyone might tell you.’
Denning was surprised to hear what she was telling him. From what they knew it was the opposite. ‘I thought Tony blamed Declan for being sent down last time?’
She shook her head and laughed. ‘Tony agreed to take the rap for their last job as he’s got a lighter record than Dec, so he’d be looking at a shorter stretch. There was no suggestion that Dec had stitched Tony up.’
It took Denning a minute to digest what she was saying. If she was telling him the truth, then her husband had clearly committed perjury in order to protect her brother’s guilt. It was a serious case of obstructing justice, and Maria Hallam was clearly complicit. But this was a murder investigation: he needed to prioritise what was important now, and right now catching their killer was his main priority.
‘So they’re friends?’
‘As close as brothers. Well, when me and Tony got together they were as good as brothers, weren’t they?’
He didn’t know if she was telling the truth. It would certainly get Declan Meech off the hook if someone was trying to kill Tony Hallam. But somehow none of this rang true with Denning. ‘Are you telling me that Tony and Declan are still working together?’
She nodded slowly as though she was talking to an idiot. ‘They’ve never stopped working together. They were planning something big when Tony was sent down. I expect his time inside was little more than an inconvenience. Whatever it was they were planning is probably still on the cards. They’re not going to let something like prison stop them.’
Chapter Nineteen
Molly was following up on a hunch. Perhaps not even a hunch, more of a niggling feeling that had wormed its way into her brain and refused to budge. She decided to follow it up in her own time rather than clock it as part of the official investigation, all too aware that Denning was pushing for a quick result.
She was glad Cassie was in when she called round unannounced at Beth’s flat.
‘It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go,’ she said, greeting Molly with a warm smile. ‘At least not yet.’
‘It shouldn’t be for too much longer,’ Molly said, trying to be helpful. ‘They’ve almost finished in there.’ Molly declined the offer of tea or coffee this time. She was still savouring the taste of the Earl Grey from The St Margaret’s Hotel.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t got anything more positive to tell you,’ she said. ‘I could fob you off with the usual crap about “following up a useful line of inquiry”, but I’m not going to lie to you. You deserve better.’ She sat down on the sofa. ‘How are you coping?’ She nodded at baby Arthur, who was playing with some coloured building blocks on a patchwork rug in front of the mock-marble fireplace. The baby smiled at Molly and held out a painted block for her to examine. She smiled back. He continued to look at her for a moment, still slightly uncertain about her presence in his life, but accepting she was now somehow a part of it.
‘We’re doing all right,’ Cassie said. Then, blushing, she added, ‘At least as well as we can under the circumstances. I’ve spoken to Kieran’s parents. They want his funeral to be held in Ireland. I don’t know why – he hadn’t lived there since he was a boy. The only family he has left over there are distant cousins. His parents moved back there when he was sixteen, but he probably only visited them a couple of times a year.’ She smiled awkwardly at Molly. ‘They were asking when the funeral would be? I said I didn’t know. I was only repeating what the woman from Family Liaison told me, but I think they thought I was trying to fob them off.’
‘We’ll release Kieran’s body as soon as we can, Cassie. But I have to warn you, even once we’ve arrested someone for his murder, there’s always the chance the defence could ask for another post-mortem.’ She saw Cassie’s face contort into a pained expression. Little Arthur made a noise part-way between a grunt and a chortle, though he couldn’t possibly have understood the significance of what they were discussing, which was probably just as well. ‘Your FLO should have explained that to you,’ Molly added. ‘Though I appreciate it’s a lot to take in when all you want to do is grieve and get on with your life.’
‘I spoke with the woman from Family Liaison yesterday afternoon,’ Cassie said. ‘She said she’d try to find out from you when Kieran’s body would be released.’
‘I can have a word with my DI, see if we could hurry things along. But honestly, Cassie, at the moment, I don’t think they’re going to be releasing Kieran’s body anytime soon. If we can find evidence proving Kieran wasn’t the intended target, then we might be able to hurry things along. However, there has been one development that might have an impact on our investigation.’ She told Cassie about the other murder and how there might be some link with Kieran’s death.
‘You still think the intended victim was the man who used to live upstairs? Tony?’ Cassie asked. ‘Was it him?’
‘No. It was a woman called Susan Elliot.’
Molly watched Cassie to see if her face gave away any kind of recognition at the name, but she just looked blank.
‘There was something on the news about that. You think her murder is connected to all this?’
Molly wasn’t sure what she thought. Susan Elliot’s murder threw up more questions than answers and was potentially turning the case in a different direction, even if Denning was refusing to see it.
Arthur started banging some of his building blocks together and shouting noisily. Cassie knelt down on the rug and lifted him up, kissing his head as she placed him on her knee. ‘He’ll want something to eat soon. To be honest, I think we’re going to have to move out of the flat. I can’t afford the rent without Kieran’s wage coming in. The rent’s paid up until the end of the month, but after that I don’t know what I’m going to do. Trying to find somewhere decent to rent in London is almost impossible.’
Molly knew exactly what it was like trying to find somewhere affordable to live. Searching online for flats and bedsits that were both in her price range and fit for human habitation. At least she had some money coming in. Cassie didn’t even have that to fall back on. ‘Maybe your parents could help out?’ she said.
Cassie sighed. ‘They’d probably suggest I move back home. I can’t think of anything worse than living with them again. My mum would just take over, try to bring Arthur up her way.’ She kissed his head again. ‘I wouldn’t want that. He deserves better.’
Molly didn’t like to ask what she meant: what could have been so bad about her own upbringing that Cassie would rather risk homelessness than live with her parents? But then families had always been something Molly had struggled to understand. Her own was pretty dysfunctional – who was to say other people’s weren’t as complicated.
She stood to leave. ‘I’ll be in touch, Cassie. But you’ve got my card. If you need to speak to me, just give me a call. Any time. I mean that.’ She paused, worried that she might be in danger of overstepping the line. ‘Even if you just want to talk.’
Cassie nodded and smiled. Molly knew she had to remain professional. Cassie Bane was the relative of a murder victim, and there were people trained to help her. Molly’s job was to find her partner’s killer.
Chapter Twenty
Denning wasn’t even sure McKenna was listening to him. She was sitting behind her desk glancing every so often at the pile of papers in front of her. She would cast the occasional glance at the clock on the wall behind him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He could sense she was still sticking to the theory that Hallam was a non-starter. He had to admit, the more time passed, the more he began to think she might be right, even if it pained him to admit it.
‘What Maria Hallam says throws a new light on things,’ he said, when he was sure he had her attention. ‘We’d previously been working on the assumption Hallam and Meech had fallen out. Now, from what she’s saying, they’re still thick as thieves, if you excuse the pun. I think this is something we should be looking into.’
McKenna’s focus was now fixed on him. ‘Why are we speaking to Maria Hallam? You should be looking for the killer of Kieran Judd and Susan Elliot. We are assuming their murders are linked?’
‘I still think Tony Hallam was the intended victim. We’re looking for anything that connects Hallam with Susan Elliot. Both were single, to all intents and purposes, so that avenue’s worth exploring.’
‘So we’re ruling Declan Meech out as a suspect in Kieran Judd’s murder?’ Denning could tell from the look on her face she was going to take some convincing on this line of thought.
‘Taking into account what Maria Hallam has said, combined with what Meech told us, then I’d say it’s unlikely. Unless there’s more to it, or there’s something she’s not telling us.’
‘Like…?’
Denning was thinking on his feet. At the present moment in time, he wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this. And McKenna didn’t like wild theories. She wanted hard facts and solid leads. She was a boots-on-the-ground copper rather than a cerebral ideas officer.
‘From what she’s said,’ Denning continued, ‘I think Hallam and Meech are planning something.’
‘Planning what? A round-the-world balloon race? A cake-baking contest? What do you mean “planning something”?’
Denning took a deep breath. Sometimes McKenna tried his patience. But then, to be fair, he suspected the feeling was mutual. ‘A crime. And I would reckon a fairly serious one, judging by their past records.’
McKenna fixed him with one of her gimlet stares for a second. ‘Well, unless they’re planning on committing a murder, it’s not really relevant to this investigation,’ McKenna said coldly. She continued the stare. ‘We’ve got two murders, Matt, probably linked. With the distinct possibility there could be more, unless we find out what the hell this is about. Right now, any connection to Tony Hallam and Declan Meech is looking tenuous at best.’
‘None of this detracts from the fact I still believe Hallam’s life might be in danger. If not from Meech, then someone else. I still think he’s the intended target rather than Kieran Judd.’
‘And where does Susan Elliot fit into this? Was she a case of mistaken identity too? Because I can’t see a respectable school teacher and a hardened criminal having much in common.’
Denning wanted to say that it was surprising what seemingly disparate people had in common. Instead he went with: ‘There’s a possibility Susan Elliot was having an affair. According to DS Fisher, her husband suspected as much. This means he could be a suspect.’
‘Except he has a solid alibi for the time of her murder. He was in Aberdeen at the time, wasn’t he?’
‘It’s not too difficult to get a flight from Aberdeen to London and back without many people realising you’re missing,’ Denning argued, ‘However, I accept he’s an unlikely candidate, but at this precise moment I don’t think we’re in a position where we can afford to rule out anything.’
McKenna seemed to give the matter some thought. Eventually her gaze returned to the paperwork that littered her desk. ‘OK, I accept we keep our options open for now. What else have you got?’
‘We’re looking at anything that connects Susan Elliot with Tony Hallam. And anyone Hallam was in prison with, or has pissed off since he got out.’
‘And Susan Elliot? Apart from a possible affair, what do we have on her so far?’
‘Right now, very little. I think the affair angle is worth pursuing.’
‘Susan Elliot and Tony Hallam? Seems unlikely.’
Denning didn’t want to admit that he agreed. ‘I strongly suspect the answer lies with Hallam. I really think we need to explore the possibility Hallam and Meech are planning something illegal. Perhaps Susan Elliot got inadvertently tied up in it? Or she was killed to stop her from talking.’
‘Which would bring us back to Meech being a suspect again. But would Hallam really want to risk yet another stretch inside?’ She pursed her lips in thought. ‘Meech, on the other hand…’
‘Agreed. I would put money on Meech being the brains behind whatever it is they’re planning.’
McKenna sat back in her chair. ‘At the moment, all we have is the possibility Tony Hallam’s life could be in danger. Anything else isn’t really our bag. If he and Meech are planning something then I need to pass it over to the appropriate body. Meech has been on the National Crime Agency’s radar for some time. It might be worth having a word with them. At least flag up that we think there’s something going on. Chances are, if there is, they’ll already have an indication, but it won’t do any harm to let them know we suspect something is afoot.’ She looked directly at Denning. ‘But, in the meantime, you need to find the killer or killers of Kieran Judd and Susan Elliot. I can’t overemphasise this, Matt. I’m getting earache from upstairs. And then we’ve got the media running panic stories about a knife killer slaying people at random. It piles the pressure on. This isn’t about Tony Hallam or Declan Meech, and we don’t have the luxury of chasing shadows down the wrong avenue.’
‘That’s if it does turn out to be a wrong avenue,’ Denning said. But even he knew she had a point. Despite his misgivings about the man, and despite the fact he knew Hallam was up to something, this was beginning to feel like a red herring. Only how was he going to tell the team?
Chapter Twenty-One
Molly was in her bedroom in Trudi and Charys’ small flat. The room was barely bigger than a decent-sized prison cell, with a double bed taking up most of the space, and an Ikea wardrobe/drawer combination occupying the wall behind the door. Her over-sized suitcase was precariously placed on top of it. A short wooden three-legged stool sat beside the bed and doubled as a bedside table, which was already cluttered with a reading lamp, alarm clock and the novel Molly just didn’t seem to be able to finish.
Trudi and Charys were in the living room, curled up on the sofa with a bottle of Chardonnay, watching some slushy chick-flick-type rubbish on Netflix. Molly had made her excuses and retired to her bedroom.
She opened her laptop, and settled down to browse flats to let.
She didn’t know whether she was depressed or surprised by what she saw listed. The ones she could afford were either so remote they might as well be in another part of the country altogether, or else they were just plain horrible. The ones that did hold any appeal were too far outside her price range to even consider, unless she was to share, and that was something that definitely didn’t appeal to her. She enjoyed staying with Trudi and Charys, and they’d meant it when they told her to treat the flat as her home. But it was their place and she constantly felt like she had to fit herself in around them. The inevitable queues for the bathroom and the rota for the tiny kitchen reinforced her conviction that she needed to find somewhere of her own soon.
She briefly thought about what Cassie had said about no longer being able to afford the rent on her flat without Kieran’s money coming in. Life could be undeservedly cruel sometimes: in the blink of an eye and through no fault of her own, Cassie’s life had been torn apart. It wasn’t just losing her partner in the most horrific of circumstances, it was the loss of the security and stability she’d taken for granted. Now she faced the unwelcome prospect of losing her home and having to find somewhere for her and her son to live when the choices of what was available were clearly very limited.
Another thought was buzzing round her head, one she was trying hard to dismiss. She was pretty sure Cassie’s flat would be in her price range, and a good size for her. Not too big, but not too cramped either. It was an OK area, by London standards, and she wasn’t in a position to be too picky. Trudi and Charys were cool about letting her stay, and there was certainly no question of either of them hassling her to move out, but she knew she couldn’t live there for ever. But how would she feel if she took advantage of Cassie Bane’s misfortune? Then there would be the knowledge of knowing what had happened in that flat. Molly wasn’t squeamish, but living somewhere a murder had taken place, especially if she knew about it, would freak her out more than a little. Plus, it would be hugely insensitive to Cassie: sympathising with her circumstances one minute, then taking advantage of her misfortune the next.
She could hear Trudi and Charys laughing in the living room. Every time she looked at them, she saw a happy couple, comfortable around each other. They had their own shorthand when it came to communicating, even finishing each other’s sentences on occasions. It was the kind of comfortable relationship Molly had so desperately wanted with Jon, but just never seemed to achieve. She tried hard not be envious of their relationship.
From what she could hear, they were still watching whatever it was on Netflix. Charys was commenting which other TV shows she’d seen various actors and actresses in. Molly smiled to herself and closed her laptop, having decided she was too depressed to spend any more time that evening looking for properties she couldn’t afford. She glanced again at her phone. The messages from Jon had finally stopped, but earlier that evening she’d spotted a text message from Rowan, Jon’s daughter. She had recently come back into Jon’s life having been estranged from him for years after her parents had divorced. She’d married her fiancé that summer with Jon as the proud father-of-the-bride.
According to Rowan, Jon was unhappy and she was worried about him. She wanted to meet Molly, but Molly wasn’t sure. The last thing she wanted was pressure from Rowan to get back with Jon; though to be fair, it was unlikely she would be placing that kind of pressure on Molly. Rowan was sensible. She understood the state of play between Molly and her father. She knew Molly wasn’t going to go back to Jon for the wrong reasons.
