Chapter 29
1078 Words
29
Culverhouse strode back into the incident room with the intention of grabbing a mug of coffee and sitting in his office with his eyes shut for a few minutes. The Freddie Galloway case was tying him in knots, and he and his team would have no way of knowing who was telling the truth and who was bound by a veil of silence imposed on them by career criminals.
He was half tempted to wind the whole investigation down. After all, a major criminal — one they’d never managed to convict — was dead. Justice had been done in its own twisted way.
He didn’t even get as far as the coffee machine, though, before Wendy stopped him in his tracks.
‘Call from above, I’m afraid.’
Culverhouse rolled his eyes and sighed. Although he was fortunate that the Chief Constable, Charles Hawes, was generally very supportive of him, the boss was always acutely aware of the public perception of the local police force. More than that, he had to maintain a positive image of Mildenheath Police and its CID department to avoid it being subsumed into county headquarters at Milton House — the only town CID department that hadn’t been. Having Mildenheath CID moved to Milton House would mean being tied up in the bureaucracy that came with it — something Hawes did his level best to avoid at all times. That was why he’d retained an office at Mildenheath and preferred to base himself there as opposed to county headquarters.
‘It’s day two. What’s he sticking his beak in for already?’ Culverhouse asked, not expecting an answer. Regardless, he poured himself a mug of black coffee from the machine and made his way up the stairs to the Chief Constable’s office. When he got there, he knocked on the door and waited for Hawes to invite him in.
‘Jack.’
‘You wanted a word with me, sir.’
‘Yes, Jack. Sit down.’
Culverhouse tried not to look annoyed. The Chief Constable had a reputation for lecturing him and thinking that just asking for results would make them happen quicker. Of course, Culverhouse knew that results would happen when they happened, and not because the Chief Constable had asked for them.
‘I just wanted to see where we are with the arson and death in Little Walgrave. Are you treating it as murder?’
‘We’re still looking into it, sir. We don’t have a full awareness of what happened or whether the arsonist deliberately tried to kill the victim.’
‘They burnt his house down in the middle of the night, Jack. They knew he’d be tucked up in bed. How can you judge it to be anything but murder?’
Culverhouse desperately wanted to tell the Chief Constable to stop interfering, but he didn’t.
‘Truth is, Jack, I’d prefer it not to be a murder. All Chief Constables would, I’m sure. Doesn’t look good for the county figures.’
Culverhouse knew that wasn’t true. Another murder in the Mildenheath area meant there was even more justification for keeping the CID department open, and ensuring he stayed twenty miles away from the office managers and pen pushers at Milton House.
‘We’re doing our best, sir. We’ve got a list of suspects and we’ve already had one in for questioning.’
‘So I hear,’ the Chief Constable said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his hands. ‘John Lucas, wasn’t it? The same John Lucas who got out of prison a few hours earlier.’ Hawes’s voice rose in both volume and intonation. ‘It makes a mockery of justice if he’s been allowed to do that. I mean, what’s the bloody point? We know a large percentage of prisoners go on to reoffend, but what the hell’s going on if a man can get out of prison after eleven years and burn someone’s bloody house down the same day?’
‘I agree, sir,’ Culverhouse said. ‘But there’s not a whole lot we can do about it. It’s down to the prison service when someone is released and to keep an eye on their probation.’
‘We have a responsibility, Jack. In the public’s eyes if nothing else. And how the hell can the prison officers not spot that the guy’s still holding a massive grudge? Don’t the parole board look for those sorts of things?’
‘With respect, sir, we don’t know that it is John Lucas. There are other suspects and information pointing to other people.’
‘What, better information than finding half the tools at his bloody house?’
Culverhouse had to admit that it didn’t look good on that front. The evidence pointing to John Lucas seemed overwhelming — almost too overwhelming. ‘To be fair, sir, it’s not up to us to babysit John Lucas. The police’s job ended years ago when they secured a conviction.’
‘That’s not the point, Jack. We should have been all over this. Someone should have been.’
‘What do you propose then?’ Culverhouse replied, trying not to lose his temper. ‘Undercover officers watching every scrote who’s released from prison? We’re stretched to the limit as it is and budgets are being cut even more. We haven’t even got enough money to stock the toilets with bog roll. My team’s short staffed already, and now DS Knight wants to piss off for the day to do her exams. I’m sorry, sir, but it’s just not on. I’m not taking the rap for this one.’
Hawes ignored Culverhouse’s anger. ‘How is she doing? DS Knight, I mean. With her exam prep.’
‘I dunno. Alright, I think.’
‘She’d make a good inspector, you know.’
‘Yes, I know. That’s why I suggested she take the exams in the first place.’
‘But now you’re not so sure?’
Culverhouse sighed. ‘I am sure, yes. But the timing is f*****g dreadful, pardon my French. DC Weston’s away for the foreseeable future and we were short-staffed enough before that.’
‘It’s one day, Jack.’ Hawes said.
‘Plus all the time she’d have to spend revising beforehand. It’d distract from her work here. We can’t afford that at the moment.’
Hawes leaned forward and spoke quietly. ‘You need to allow her to do it, Jack. For the sake of her career. We’ll manage.’
‘No. Sorry,’ Culverhouse replied, folding his arms. ‘I’m not compromising this investigation. Especially seeing as that’s the whole reason you invited me here, to tell me we need to do more.’
‘We can always do more, Jack. Especially in the eyes of the public. You know that. Would it help to have a meeting with the senior investigating officer who covered the Trenton-Lowe robbery?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Culverhouse replied, perhaps a little too quickly. The SIO on that case had been Malcolm Pope, then a Detective Inspector, now a DCI stationed at Milton House, who Culverhouse — and most of the rest of the CID unit — despised. His polished, shiny exterior was just a smokescreen for his very average success rate and revolting personality. The bosses, though, loved him and couldn’t see past his golden boy image.
‘I thought you might say that. He’ll try and get involved, though, you know. He still sees this as his case.’
‘Yeah, well he can piss off. He’s not coming anywhere near it.’
Hawes nodded slowly. ‘Then you know what you need to do, Jack.’
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