Suspect (The Mark Pemberton Cases Book 2) Page 15

  ‘Good, include all that sort of detail. And the tyres? You haven’t changed the tyres, have you?’

  ‘No, they were on when I got it, they were brand-new. Why?’

  ‘Suppose they match the tyre marks we found near the green tent, Vic?’ Pemberton looked at Hadley directly into his eyes.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he said. ‘And that anonymous call, with two of my numbers being mentioned by that caller…I mean, sir, bloody hell, I’m no killer! It looks as if I’m being set up for this lot. Look, sir, you’ve got to get me out of this, really…’

  ‘I will, Vic, you know that, but first I’ll need to quiz you and quiz you again and again until you’re heartily sick of it…like a suspect. You know the routine, you know how hard we can be, how hard we have to be on murder suspects.’

  ‘Sir, I’ve been ill, I’ve been accused of shooting Newton in cold blood. I don’t want to be accused, or even suspected, of killing those other people — it’s not me, sir, not my style. I’m no murderer, it’s just not the sort of thing I’d do.’

  ‘You write that statement, Vic, and fetch it direct to me when it’s finished — do it here if you want, or at home, or wherever you feel happiest. Don’t stress yourself, I don’t want you becoming ill again through all this — believe me, I want to help you.’

  ‘Just believe me, sir, just trust me. That’s all I ask. A bit of trust. It’s so hard getting people to believe what I say. It’s always been like this, ever since I was a kid. Always such a bloody battle to get people to believe what I say…I never tell lies, sir, never…’ and Pemberton noticed tears in Hadley’s eyes.

  He spoke softly. ‘Vic, we will have to examine your bike. Tyre treads and so on, to eliminate it, to see whether it was at the Green Tent murder scene.’

  ‘I know that, sir. Go ahead, it’s out there now, in the sheds. I’d welcome that if it gets me off the hook. God knows I would.’

  And Inspector Vic Hadley, now high in Pemberton’s frame of suspects, turned and walked out, rubbing his eyes. Pemberton watched him go, unsure whether he was watching the departure of a very clever killer. His actions were similar to the killer who pretends to have discovered the body, hoping that will convince the police of his innocence. Hadley had done exactly that — had he seen the growing wealth of evidence and decided to take the initiative? That action alone was of enormous benefit to Pemberton and it removed the need for stealth and deception. Pemberton and his teams could now interrogate Vic Hadley just as they would another suspect. And just like another suspect, Pemberton did not know whether he was innocent or guilty. But he had to find out, one way or the other, witnesses or no witnesses.

  His first duty was to ring Detective Sergeant Thornton of Scenes of Crime.

  ‘Derek,’ he said, ‘Inspector Hadley’s motor cycle is in the bike sheds behind the building. I want it examined, now. I want you to tell me if it has been at the scene of the Green Tent murder. Check the tyres, look for signs of earth upon it which might have come from that area. Inspector Hadley knows it is being checked — it’s being done for elimination purposes, I might add. His bike number is one of hundreds the PNC has thrown up.’

  ‘Very good, sir,’ said Thornton, not entirely convinced by Pemberton’s reasons for the examination. Alone with his thoughts, Pemberton decided that he could not treat Hadley like a ‘bent’ police officer, one who had infringed the discipline code or who was known to have become involved in some criminal escapade. In such cases, the officer was suspended from duty. Hadley could not be suspended merely because his motor cycle was like one which had been used by a killer. Hadley would therefore be allowed to continue in his present role. In that way, and with Hadley in the office, Pemberton and his officers would be able to keep an eye on him. If the suspicions strengthened, then it might be possible to set a trap.

  As Mark pondered his next move, he realised that, with all the detailed timings and other information relative to the murders, Hadley, if he was guilty, would be able to compile his statement so that his movements could be explained in relation to the known facts.

  But one factor would be inescapable — the tyre marks at the scene of the Green Tent killing would be vital and if they did match Hadley’s tyres, then it would be almost irrefutable evidence of his culpability.

  Having dealt with Hadley, Mark examined the correspondence in his in-tray, knowing he would have to determine what information should be released to the newspapers this evening, in readiness for tomorrow morning’s editions. Apart from Hadley’s unpredictable move, there had been little development with the Green Tent murder, and no positive inflow of information from Langbarugh. In other words, the enquiries were all pottering along with no dramatic developments, other than the anonymous caller. His action had revived the enquiry, albeit only briefly, but his information would not be released to the media, neither would Hadley’s dilemma.

  When he went out of his office, he could see Vic Hadley, head down, working on his statement. He seemed so anxious to get it all down on paper, so keen to prove his innocence. He was writing in longhand on scraps of paper and would transfer his work on to a typewriter or word processor in due course.

  Pemberton approached him.

  ‘Vic,’ he said, ‘I’m having your motor cycle examined by SOCO immediately, tyres mainly. I thought you ought to know.’

  ‘Thanks, sir, at least that’ll prove I wasn’t at that Green Tent scene.’

  Pemberton moved on and found Detective Inspector Larkin in the photocopy room. ‘Paul,’ he said, ‘has Fell’s in Scarborough been visited about sales of black motor bikes?’

  ‘No, it’s out of our patch, sir. With the Langbarugh link, we’ve been concentrating on the northern end of the area.’

  ‘Vic Hadley got his bike from them, a black Suzuki which the PNC has thrown up. I think we ought to visit them, finding out how many black Suzukis they’ve sold recently and to whom — and what sort of tyres they all had.’

  ‘Yes, right, sir.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Why not?’ smiled Larkin. ‘I could do with an outing.’

  And so Pemberton asked the press officer, Inspector Dodd, to say that the enquiry team was still concentrating on finding the black motor cycle and some positive leads were being followed. No arrest was imminent, however.

  Twenty minutes later, with DI Larkin at the wheel, Pemberton was heading for Fell’s, Scarborough’s leading motor cycle retailers. It would be interesting to learn how many black Suzukis had been sold in this area. He found himself hoping there was more than one.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alan Fell, owner of the motor cycle shop in Scarborough, was very helpful, even more so when he learned that this was part of the Green Tent murder enquiry in the northern part of the county. He kept neat and up-to-date records and was quickly able to show that he had sold a Suzuki ll00cc machine to a Mr Victor Hadley of Rainesbury a couple of months ago. Computer records held by the shop meant that the information was readily available upon request — as long as there was a very sound reason for that request. Fell was able to say that the machine was brand-new, he could provide the registration number, and he confirmed that it was fitted with the Italian Masseria tyres.

  He could also provide a list of identical machines sold during the past year; his computer records printed out a list of machines which were not shown on the PNC records, simply because the Scarborough and district postcodes of YO11, 12, 14, 15 and 16 (York areas) had not been included in the request to the computer. Now, Pemberton had a list of thirty other motor cycles which were identical to that owned by Hadley — and fifteen of them had been fitted with Masseria tyres when sold. Fell went on to say that a purchaser could swap the tyres for another brand before taking delivery of the machine if he wished, but few did so.

  Mr Fell added that he had received his allocation from the production line and had had sufficient machines to exchange several of his stock with dealers from the Northeast, including Newcastle, Sunderland, Durham an
d Middlesbrough. Those who had wanted this particular model had thus been supplied with their dream bike.

  It seemed that those who bought these particular machines were quite content to use the Italian country-style tyres with which they were fitted as standard. Fell showed Pemberton and Larkin examples of the tyres, easily distinguished by their deep tread which was designed for rural motor cycling rather than city or town work; Pemberton saw that they did match those upon Hadley’s machine. Fell’s computer then showed which of the recently bought machines had been fitted with such tyres after purchase. There were only two — one had gone to a buyer in Lincoln and the other to a holiday-maker from Luton who had had his purchase delivered by carrier.

  Neither, felt Pemberton, would be responsible for murders in the north-east of England, but even so they would be interrogated along with all the owners of black Suzukis with Masseria tyres already fitted. They would be asked to provide details of their whereabouts at the time of the killings — and surprises were always likely to happen on a murder enquiry.

  Alan Fell was happy to supply catalogues of the machines and publicity photographs of the tyres; he said the British agents in Coventry would no doubt assist further with any more details of the tyres, if they were required. The detectives thanked him and left.

  On the return journey to Rainesbury, Pemberton took the opportunity to ask Larkin for his views on Hadley. Larkin, like the other members of the murder team, now knew that Hadley had volunteered to be questioned with a view to being eliminated from the list of black motor cycling suspects.

  Pemberton realised it was putting Larkin on the spot, but Larkin was sufficiently mature to understand that this was not a flippant question.

  ‘He’s a good solid workhorse.’ Larkin spoke honestly. ‘He just sits and works on the data, he hardly stops. He’s forgotten he’s a uniform inspector, he’s behaving more like a detective constable. Very dedicated, an asset to the incident room, I’d say. A bit lacking in humour and not very talkative, but knowing what he’s been through, I’m not surprised.’

  ‘Had you ever considered him a suspect for the Green Tent murder, Paul? Or either of the Langbarugh killings?’

  ‘Him? Vic Hadley? Good God, no, sir!’ There was shock on Paul’s face.

  ‘You know he has a black motor bike?’

  ‘I know he comes to work on a motor bike, sir, he leaves his waterproofs and helmet in the locker room. But I have never regarded that as significant — damn it all, lots of people go to work on motor bikes. I must admit I haven’t paid much attention to his machine. There was no reason to even consider it.’

  ‘There is now. It’s a black one, Paul, with silver markings. We’re interested in black bikes, especially those with silver markings and two numerical digits which are the same as on a bike reported seen in Kesterdale shortly before Scott’s death. Hadley’s bike matches that description, even to having two matching digits on its registration plate. Remember we’re talking about a man who was suspected of shooting an innocent shopper during a stake-out, a victim later found to be an unconvicted villain, like the three victims we’re investigating…they’re people apparently killed by some kind of lone vigilante, a vigilante who kills people the courts can never reach, a killer who knows of their unpublicised records and a killer who rides a black motor bike. Our colleague, Vic Hadley, is a man whose hobby is fishing alone, so he says…’

  ‘You make him sound like a prime suspect, sir.’

  ‘I’ll make no bones about it, Paul. I was on the point of launching a secret investigation into his background and checking his movements when he volunteered for elimination. He said the black bike list which the PNC spewed out had persuaded him to do this — his machine’s on the list, as you know. Because of that, he would have been earmarked for interview as a matter of course. It could be argued that we should have known about his bike — he parked the bloody thing right under our noses — but his possession of advanced knowledge has made him jump the queue. That knowledge also removes the need for me to go softly-softly in my interrogation of him. We don’t have to hide our activities, Paul, his wish is to be clear of suspicion. Mine is to establish the truth.’

  ‘Won’t his mental condition be at risk if we start quizzing him and his wife as we would any other prime suspect? It could make him blow a fuse, or whatever happens in these cases.’

  ‘That’s a risk I’ll have to take. DC Cashmore is in touch with the force welfare officer, who’s a bit of a dragon by all accounts, enough to frighten police officers back to work if you ask me, and we shall maintain that liaison so long as Hadley’s with our department.’

  ‘Is he mentally ill, sir?’

  ‘I don’t know, that’s something Lorraine hopes to learn from the welfare officer, once she’s established a stronger rapport. I hope the interrogations will not make him ill again, we don’t want to be responsible for setting his recovery back, especially if he is innocent.’

  ‘You sound doubtful, sir?’

  ‘Before this series of murders started, Paul, I did a tiny bit of research into the Millgate supermarket shooting. The outcome of that was that I emerged more baffled than when I started. Reading those reports, and hearing Hadley’s reaction to the death of old Scott, I would not be at all surprised if he bumped off Newton, probably seeing it as a service to society. If he is mentally sick now, he might have been mentally sick then. I’m not saying he is mentally sick, though. He’s suffering from stress, or has been suffering from stress, which is not quite the same thing, but the point I’m making is that he might have been mentally ill at the time of Millgate. We can’t ignore that possibility. That’s something no one seems to have established, added to which he might feel he has some God-given right to eliminate wrongdoers. I might be wrong about the Millgate killing but when these current murders started, with more villains being assassinated, I saw there were links, Paul, strong links. For example, who, outside the police service, could know of the criminal backgrounds of all those victims? In two adjoining force areas? Someone with access to police records, confidential records of suspects rather than convicts? There’s a lot of unanswered and imponderable questions among it all, Paul.’

  ‘So what you’re saying is that we should put a team on to Inspector Hadley?’

  ‘Yes, and it has to be the best we’ve got. I’d like you to take that on board, Paul. Now that Hadley has opened things up, we can go ahead without any need for subterfuge. So can you select someone to work with you on this, on Hadley, covering all aspects of his life and career, sickness record and so on? I think you should read the Millgate file too, which I have got in my safe. But I do not want Hadley to be regarded as guilty until we have looked at every conceivable angle. And I need not say that these suspicions must be kept from the press and from all other officers — and especially from the Newton family and those bloody tabloids who crucified him over Millgate. They made him appear guilty of murder when he believes he was only doing his job, so God knows what they’d do with this development.’

  ‘It’s a tall order, sir, investigating one of our own like this.’

  ‘I’m aware of that, Paul. I know we’re not the rubber heel squad, but it should be made easier because Hadley welcomes the operation. He wants to be exonerated. Let him talk and talk and talk, but never let his chatter and his confirmation of his own innocence cloud your vision. You need to be objective, you need witnesses — or he needs witnesses, to be precise.’

  ‘They’ll be hard to find, I imagine?’

  ‘Very. He desperately needs proof that he was where he said he was at the time he said he was there. You know the score, Paul. If you need help, contact me. I’ve already asked SOCO to look at his bike tyres to see if they can be matched to the tracks at the green tent. Take over from me, Paul.’

  ‘It’ll be awful if he is the killer, sir…’

  ‘Try not to think of it like that. Be open-minded…Hadley has given us the go-ahead and he’ll expect you to be frank and open with h
im, and with the other incident room members. And remember he claims never to tell a lie!’

  ‘Sir,’ said Larkin with studied emphasis, ‘if he is the killer, then he might kill again — if we don’t stop him, that is. Will that mean tailing him day and night?’

  ‘I think that will have to be done, Paul. I would approve the necessary application with expenses and overtime payments — but I think we would have to deploy detectives from another area, someone Vic doesn’t know.’

  ‘He’s likely to find out, though, surely? He’ll know if he’s being followed or if his house is being watched.’

  ‘It’s a risk we’ll have to take,’ said Pemberton. ‘There are some pretty good shadows around.’

  ‘I’ll do what I can.’

  And so Detective Inspector Paul Larkin found himself with a very distasteful job. But, in the interests of Hadley and the force as a whole, the truth had to be established. As the two senior detectives drove back to their office, they lapsed into silence, each with his own thoughts. By the time of their return to the Rainesbury incident room, the evening news conference was over and there had been no fresh developments since Hadley’s request for enquiries — his personal intervention had galvanised the Staff of the incident room.

  Because of his open request for elimination, some who knew of his past now thought he was a suspect. Others who had worked with him in recent days were firmly of the belief that it was necessary to eliminate him as swiftly as possible — they believed him innocent. Yet more did not express an opinion either way — they would await the results with interest. DC Duncan Young, the HOLMES expert, was now exhorting his team members to search for any reference which might relate to Hadley, perhaps by description, perhaps by implication, perhaps by omission, while those busy with the black motor cycle print-outs were scanning the registration details of all the machines to see if any did match, or could match, the facts already known. For example, were there any registration numbers among them which could conceivably have been misrecorded? Were there any remotely resembling any of the false numbers already known to the police? It was a mammoth task, checking every figure of every number, but it would be done, and it would be done with immense care.