Leo winced in his sleep as he moved his leg.
‘Have you considered the possibility that maybe Dad already knows?’ Isaac the thinker spoke slowly. ‘They’ve been best mates for a long time, even before Graham started dating Carla, so I can imagine Graham telling Dad, can’t you?’
‘I can, but I can’t believe Dad would agree with it. He’s only ever had eyes for Mum. Maybe that’d put Graham off telling his best mate, ’cos he’d know Dad would go off on one. So what are we gonna do?’
Isaac stared into the distance. ‘My vote is we tell Dad, let him decide what happens next. If he tells the police, that’s okay, we’ve dumped the problem and we don’t have to worry. If he doesn’t tell the police, he’s going to head straight for Graham and want answers. That could be a bad scenario.’
They high-fived and Leo stirred slightly.
‘Sorted. We’ll tell Leo when he wakes up. Guess we’re stuck here for some time. I reckon if that leg stiffens up we’ll be carrying him home.’
Leo groaned, and moved his leg. His eyes remained closed, and Jack and Isaac picked up the football and went for a kickabout, watching their friend from afar.
9
The briefing room chatter fell away as Tom held up his hand.
‘Morning everybody. Reports. Adele?’
He looked around the room and the DC signalled where she was. ‘You’ve looked into Graham Andrews.’
‘I have, boss.’ She waved a sheaf of papers. ‘These are the findings from the three of us tasked with researching Andrews, West and Craig. I’ll pass them around when we’ve given our verbal reports. So, Graham Andrews. Married to Carla, deceased. Been with his wife for around eighteen years, married for twelve. Two children, Kelly aged nine and Daniel, seven.
‘Nothing on Graham from our point of view, not even a parking fine, so seemingly a good guy. Joint ownership with Carla of his home, no other properties. Works for the council. He had no jobs until he met Carla. It seems she turned his life around, he started attending college and eventually got his job in the planning department. He’s moved upwards in seniority since then. No connection to anybody he shouldn’t have a connection with, an all-round okay bloke.’
Adele paused. ‘Maybe a bit too nice? I spoke to a couple of people he works with, and got the impression he was a bit of a stickler. Timekeeping, that sort of thing, liked to be in control. Nobody disliked him, but nobody really liked him. He didn’t socialise with anybody at work, and they mentioned he rang his wife twice a day, every day. And, strangely enough, he keeps a list of the times he rings her. They vary every day.’
‘He doesn’t trust her?’ Tom asked.
‘Either that, or he likes to control her the same as his colleagues. I actually spoke to three of his co-workers, and all of them used the word control.’
‘Thank you, Adele,’ Tom said. ‘If Graham Andrews is into strict timekeeping, expecting the same from his colleagues, I’m going to offer him a job in this unit.’
There was some laughter, and Tom grinned at them. ‘Couldn’t resist that. Okay, Diane, Kenny West.’
Diane stood. ‘My written report is in the papers Adele has, but briefly it shows pretty much the same for Kenny West. Happily married, buying his house with Lorraine, our victim. They had twin boys, sixteen, called Jack and Isaac. Kenny’s forty, four years older than Graham Andrews. Dates of birth, marriage dates etc. are all in the report. Like Graham, Kenny’s clean as far as we are concerned. Nothing on file. He has his own business repairing cars, three employees, tidy place, happy workers. It’s also the local MOT test centre. I checked on that to see if there was ever anything dodgy with certificates, but an absolute zilch. They all spoke highly of him, and were keeping things running until he’s ready to return to work. All of them expressed sorrow at Lorraine’s death. They valued her as much as Kenny. It seems both our husbands are squeaky clean.’
‘And they’ve been friends for a long time?’ Tom asked.
‘Yes, boss. Certainly before they married. A long and seemingly close friendship.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘It’s almost too clean, isn’t it?’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Tom said.
Terri Vincent was shaking. A newcomer to the team, she had known that one day she would be called upon to give a report. That day was now. She wanted to suddenly develop tonsillitis so she couldn’t speak, but that was never going to happen. Not in the next thirty seconds anyway.
She coughed to clear her throat. ‘Benjamin Craig is an all-life resident of this area. His full address and all his details are in the report. He attends the betting shop every Saturday morning after calling in to the café on the High Street and picking up his breakfast. It has been a routine of his for a number of years, ever since he was old enough to go in the bookmakers. He did exactly the same last Saturday, but in all the years he’d been going there, the shop had never been late in opening. He sensed something was wrong when Carla didn’t respond to his knocking and shouting for her to open up, as he could see both the ladies’ cars parked in their usual spots.
‘He figured he would risk getting a bollocking, his words, and rang the police to explain he was worried. He was advised by our operator to get out of the way, and cars would be despatched. He hid behind one of the other cars in the car park, and seems to be the only person who has witnessed anything. He saw the killer exit the premises after the gunshots, dump the gun in a waste bin, and leave the scene. At no point did the killer remove the mask, and Craig has no idea at all who the masked person could be. He did get the feel it was a man, by the way he ran. He seemed to feel a woman would have taken shorter steps, but this person ran at full pelt, long strides.’ Terri paused for a moment.
‘He did confess that at one time, a couple of years ago, he had a bit of a fling with Carla. It seems their Saturday morning chats led to a bit of flirting, and although he never took her out because she couldn’t escape from her husband, they squeezed into the tiny kitchen at the bookies on the pretext of making coffee. They stopped by mutual consent because she had no freedom beyond being allowed to go to work.’
Terri paused for a moment. ‘He cared for Carla, had a lot of respect for Lorraine. That’s what came across when I spoke to him. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and although he doesn’t realise this, he inadvertently caused their deaths by ringing us. Obviously I didn’t say anything about that, but one day he’ll find out, and I suspect we’ll have an angry young man. He’s still young, a lot younger than Carla, but he really fell for her. He could easily want revenge. We have a minor infringement on him; he broke a window and ran away when he was fourteen. The owner saw him and Craig received a caution for it.’
Terri sat down and for a brief second there was silence. Then everybody clapped, and Tom smiled at her. ‘Sorry for the applause, Terri. They do it every time somebody gives their first report. That’s it over with now, and it was an excellent report. General feeling about him? Not from a copper’s point of view.’
‘Nice bloke. No wife, but he’s only twenty-five. Well spoken. Spends ten pounds every Saturday in the betting office, lives with his mum, dad died ten years ago. No grandparents. Ben works at Tesco, manages one of the smaller Express branches in the centre of Sheffield. Never works Saturday, he does the Sunday shift. He likes his trip to the bookies, and he’s a Sheffield Wednesday season ticket holder so goes to all the matches, home and away.’