Chapter 23

Freddy’s Story

It all began to go wrong with his arrival at Sutton Box, one sunny morning, to find a man and woman lurking by his desk. Gandalph was visiting Freddy Walsh again. The couple introduced themselves as being from the Professional Standards Department and asked where Constable Randalph was. He told them the truth.

“He’s gone to interview a suspect for me. It’s a cold case I’m investigating.”

“Do you always work closely with Constable Randalph?” the woman asked.

Thurstan gave her a little smile, pointed at the other desk in the room and replied, “Well, he sits over there, if that’s what you mean.”

The man gave a little snort and a shake of the head. “You know it’s not what we mean. Have you got Constable Randalph doing other work for you?”

Thurstan knew what the real issue was. It was evident to him Gandalph’s little scheme had caught up with him.

“Yes, he found himself attached here and, after a while, he felt he was under employed and offered to give me a hand. Cold cases. There were a lot of them.” He’d hung his jacket on a coat hook and, leaving them standing there, wandered off to the kitchen from where he called, “Either of you fancy a cuppa?”

When he came back, they were, of course, still there. “Are you sure you don’t want a brew? he said, casually, then added, “Can I ask what the problem is?”

“You can,” the woman replied. “But we can’t tell you. It’s confidential. When do you expect him to return?”

Thurstan produced the face of a man giving the question genuine consideration before replying, “I don’t want to waste your time, so I’d have to say - not until tomorrow morning. The enquiry I’ve sent him on is somewhat protracted and he’s got a long way to travel.” 

“May we ask what the enquiry is about?” she replied.

Thurstan offered them both a big smile. “You may, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you. It’s confidential. I’m sure you understand.”

When they’d left him in peace, he’d pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and dialled.

They met at the Saracen’s Head, a country pub on the banks of the Leeds and Liverpool Canal. There were ample places to sit outside and have some privacy.

Gandalph ran through what he’d done that day. Freddy Walsh hadn’t looked well at all, and it wasn’t only the nurses who knew he didn’t have much time left. He said he’d appreciated the visits, the conversations and honest company. No one else had bothered, not even a card.

Gandalph pressed play on his phone.  A weak, slow voice declared, “My name’s Freddy Walsh. I worked with Reg Barker on the regional drug squad. He was a sergeant but more than that, we were partnered up.

“I won’t talk about the other things going on in the squad. I won’t answer any questions. This is about Robbie Doyle, what happened in his house that night and how Lennie Turner got involved.” He paused.

“Me and Reg went round to Doyle’s place. Robbie was an informant of Reg’s and a dealer as well, ran a market stall. In those days, everyone on the squad had informants, none of them registered anywhere but in your head. It’s how it was done in those days. You didn’t want anyone else muscling in on your property.”

He broke off, there were a few scuffling noises followed by shuffling. Gandalph explained to Thurstan, “He had to have some water and I had to help him sit up a bit to drink it.”

Freddy resumed, “We went there because Reg thought Robbie was holding out on him and wanted our cut of his latest delivery. He’d got it in his head it’d be at the house somewhere. Robbie let Reg in, and I stayed outside keeping an eye out for any unwelcome visitors.

“Next minute there’s raised voices, so I go in to back up Reg. They’re in the kitchen, Robbie’s holding a gun, one of those snub revolvers, and he’s waving it at Reg. I must have startled him when I came in because he points the bloody thing at me.

“Reg grabbed this knife. It must have been on the worktop. Anyway, he lunged at Robbie who let out this horrible grunt and collapsed on the floor. For a few moments, we panicked a bit, then I checked Robbie, but he was dead.”

Gandalph stopped the recording. “This next bit he just describes how, thinking the drugs they wanted would be in the van, they went out to search it. Barker took the keys from the kitchen table. Anyway, they’re looking through a pile of jackets and coats when Lennie turns up, trying to be helpful. Barker fobs him off with some guff about the owner of the house had said he knew who the Russian spy was, but a Russian assassin had got there first and killed him.”

Gandalph fiddled with his phone then said, “OK, listen to this next bit.”

Freddy’s voice again: “We’d told Lennie this spy story long before, told him we were MI5 on a mission. He loved that sort of thing and ate it up. He was just a big soft lad, but we had to get rid of him so we could search the van. Reg grabs this jacket from the pile in the back, sizes it on Lennie then helps him put it on. He said it was a reward for helping us and told him to go before his cover was blown and not tell anyone what’s happened.

“I didn’t know it then, I swear, but Reg still had the knife, so he got rid of it in Lennie’s new jacket pocket. Anyway, we couldn’t find anything in the van, and we’d been there too long, so we closed the doors and left.”

Stopping the recording, Gandalph explained, “They’d parked their car away from the house, in the opposite direction they told Lennie to go. Lights off, they reverse slowly into a driveway and see the headlights of a car stop alongside Lennie. They had a pretty good idea it would be an unmarked crime patrol, so they slid off and only stuck their headlights on when they were out of sight.

“At this point, Freddy said he realised if they got found out the best they could hope for was to claim self-defence but everything else was going to come out and he knew they’d be screwed. Reg then comes up with the idea to go back when the first patrols turn up and pretend to help, say they were just passing through when they heard the call. That way, they could account for their fingerprints at scene and Reg could get a padlock key he’d seen on the table.”

He saw the DCI’s enquiring look. “You see, Boss, he knew Robbie Doyle had a lock-up garage on the industrial estate. However, the immediate priority was to get to the nick, wait for the right opportunity, then get down to Lennie in his cell to tell him what to say in interview, which they did.” He hesitated as a young couple walked past on their way to the bar.

“I asked what the plan was, overall, and Freddy said they didn’t have one, not one he was aware of because Reg always came up with that sort of stuff. So, when Lennie gets remanded in custody, they go down to Risley. They already had a meeting arranged with another informant.”

Thurstan interjected. “Why couldn’t we find a record of them being there?”

“That’s easy, Boss. They had a cosy little arrangement with several warders, no records kept. Anyhow, they used the opportunity to speak to Lennie; bolster him up, impress upon him the need for silence, the great excuse of National Security. They told him to be patient, said they’d get him out but it might take a little while. They promised to see him again the following week. But they never went back. I asked Freddy why. This is what he said.”

Freddy: “It wasn’t intentional, not on my part. I just forgot. There was this squad piss-up, can’t remember the reason, but it got heavy, me and Reg had some cocaine in the toilets and it turned into a bit of an all-nighter. I didn’t come round until mid-afternoon the next day. I only remembered we said we’d go two days later. Reg said it would be fine, we’d do it the following week. Turned out to be far too late.”

Gandalph’s voice: “What happened to Reg?’

Freddy: “I honestly don’t know. I’d started using the stuff too often. It was free. It got so bad I had to go into rehab for three months. The Superintendent made up a tale about me working the office on light duties and if anyone did come looking the line was, I was at a doctor’s appointment. When I got back, Reg had gone. I was told he’d had enough and resigned.”

Gandalph stopped the recording. “He said he wouldn’t answer questions, originally, but he’s doing it, so I thought, try another, see how he responds. All I said was we knew about the fire in the records office.” He pressed play again.

Freddy’s voice: “The fire? That was Reg’s idea. He knew one of the women in there, you know how it is. She was enamoured with him. He could sweet-talk the pants off a nun when he was on form, old Reg. When I asked him about it, all he said was ‘It’s about who you know, in this business, Freddy.’ I know he knew some bloke in the Fire Brigade though. Fairly high up.”

Gandalph’s voice: “I bet it caused some problems for you. Your own record getting destroyed?”

Freddy: “Not really, it had been misfiled under Welsh. It was only singed around the edges.”

Gandalph put the phone back in his pocket. “It’s a story but it’s not going to get through Court. If I’d tried to go all official, he’d have refused to say anything. I’m absolutely certain of that. Sorry, but it’s the best I could do, Boss.” He hesitated, then spoke again.

“He’d said he didn’t know what the overall plan was, but I found it hard to believe. OK, he probably didn’t know what they were going to do to get Lennie out of the crap he was in at that exact time, but I put it to him, surely, he must have asked Reg after the lad’s suicide what he’d intended to do. The look on his face told me the only way I’d get him to come clean was to promise him I wouldn’t record anything.”

His DCI asked, “And he said?”

“He said,” Gandalph sighed. “Reg knew if it went to trial Lennie would fold and come out with his spy story, Dave and Ken, MI5 and all. The others in the squad were the only people, to their knowledge, who knew about Dave and Ken. His plan had been to simply point out the world of shit coming the squad’s way if the truth ever got out. The obvious conclusion? They knew Lennie’s tale of being involved with MI5 would be treated with ridicule by the courts, the prosecution and probably even his own defence team, and they knew all they had to do was collectively stay quiet. If anyone in that squad revealed who Dave and Ken were the whole house of cards would come crashing down. There was never any intention to save Lennie. He was thrown to the dogs.”

Thurstan stood up and put a hand on his DC’s shoulder. “You did a good job, Stephen. What’s the prognosis on Walsh?”

“Two, three days, if that, Boss. I know it’s stupid, but I’ve sort of got oddly fond of him. My impression is there was always a decent man inside struggling to get out, and now he has. I think he’s the sort of person who was easily led by a strong personality. Look, I’d like to go back and let him know someone cares. Is that OK?”

“It’s fine by me. You have my admiration.” Gandalph blushed as the DCI continued, “I’ll write you off for three days. Leave it with me. Now we’ve got all that out of the way, fancy a pint?”

When he’d come back, placing the glasses on the table, he asked, “What are you going to do about PSD and their enquiry?”

Gandalph took several mouthfuls of his beer. “Standard plan A, Boss. Deny everything. Plan B? Make them work for it and see how good they are. Plan D? Resign.”

Thurstan wiped the Guinness foam from his mouth. “What happened to Plan C?”

His DC flashed him a pale smile. “Haven’t got one at the moment, Boss.”

They sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes and then the DCI said, “She seems to be a very determined woman, this inspector of yours. Not one to forget things. What did you do to make her dislike you so much?” Silence followed a raising of his DC’s eyebrows and a little smirk.

Thurstan looked him straight in the eyes. “You had sex with her sometime, promised you’d call and then didn’t. I’m right, aren’t I, Stephen?”

Gandalph took several more gulps of beer. Shrugging his shoulders apologetically, he replied, “I met her in a nightclub. She never let on she was in the police, let alone a sergeant. The few times we met she came across as being a bit too clingy.”

Thurstan interjected, “Did you tell her you were a police officer?”

Gandalph smiled. “No. I said I was a helicopter pilot.” Then he added, defensively, “Anyhow, after she smashed all the windows in my camper van, which, by the way, I never reported, she somehow didn’t seem so attractive anymore. Well, next tour of mornings, we’re all sat in the parade room, eagerly waiting to see what our new female sergeant looks like, and in she walks. It was downhill from there.” He gently waved his almost empty glass at the DCI. “Can you manage another half, Boss?”

Three days later, one day after Freddy Walsh passed away with Gandalph by his side, the DC received the email instruction to report to the PSD offices for interview. Their cosy little world began to fall apart.

****

Gandalph looked flustered when he came back. Thurstan was about to say something, but his DC’s wide eyes and inclination of the head led him along the corridor and out of the fire exit, into the yard.

Walking 20 yards from the building, Gandalph turned and said, “This should be far enough, Boss.’’

Thurstan’s hands spread out, emphasising his shrug, and he replied, “What on earth’s going on?”

“I think they’ve had our office bugged and they may well be tapping the phones.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because they seem to know more about this discipline job than they should. The male sergeant made a remark at one point in response to an answer I’d made. He said, ‘Are you absolutely sure that’s what was said?’ Well, the female shot him a dark look as if he’d let a cat out of the bag. It reminded me of something years ago when I was a beat bobby. I got phoned up by this detective from another nick who wanted me to drop a case against a bloke for drink driving. He wanted me to say I’d been mistaken or had done the procedure wrong. I told him I couldn’t do it.

“Anyway, about a year later, the detective gets locked up. They’d been tapping the phones in his office and I get interviewed about the conversation. From what the bloke who came out to take my statement said, it was clear they’d listened in on that one as well. He knew more about the discussion than I could remember. Then there was the DCI they locked up years later. They’d stuck a bug in his smoke detector.”

“And you’re suggesting it’s what they’ve done here?”

“You can call me paranoid if you want, but I need to check it out. Luckily, the only time I can remember speaking with you about it in the office or on the phone was the first time I told you what I’d done. Now, that was on the front desk phone and I’d called you from my mobile. I don’t remember ever discussing it with you in the office. I have spoken to Davvo about it in there though, and that’s what I think is worrying.

“Anyway, I basically denied everything, and they took handwriting samples off me, which I’m not bothered with because I wasn’t the one who signed the report in the first place so that’ll be the forgery allegation out of the window. Now all I’ll be facing is three breaches of the discipline code. They reckon I could be facing dismissal and tried to make a deal with me – you know the sort, if I’m honest with them and tell them who else knew about it all, then they could more or less guarantee the dismissal option would be taken off the table. They specifically asked what you knew about it. I take it Inspector Barkus never called you at all?”

Thurstan shook his head. “No, and I never discussed the matter with anyone.”

Gandalph nodded satisfaction. “I need to check the bloody smoke detector in our office.”

As they approached the fire door to re-enter, Davvo stepped out and lit a cigarette.

“I thought you’d given up?” Gandalph asked him.

He looked pale. “I have but it’s been a shitty day.”

“What happened?”

“Suicide. The idiot put a rope around his neck and jumped from the fifth-floor landing of a stairwell. Ripped his head off. You should have seen the mess. To make things worse my probationer decided to puke all over me.”

Thurstan left them to it as Gandalph grimaced and said, “I wondered what the smell was. You don’t look particularly puked on though.”

Davvo gave him a weak smile. “It was on me back, mate. He was looking over me shoulder.”

Gandalph threw him a grimace of sympathy then cut to the chase. “Incidentally, was the smoke detector in our office changed recently?”

Davvo took a deep inhalation and blew a satisfactory plume of smoke into the air. “Now you mention it. About three weeks after you got here. A guy from Property Services came in, said it had to be changed because they were trying to use up the budget. You know why I remember? He let me keep the old one. Absolutely nothing wrong with it. I put it in the hall at home. Works a treat.”

Gandalph left him with, “Take a shower and change that shirt.”

Davvo sarcastically replied, “Yeah, like I’m going to forget.”

In their office, Thurstan stood on the aluminium stepladder he’d taken from the cleaner’s cupboard and pointed at a small object visible within the opened smoke detector. Gandalph nodded and went back to Davvo and told him, “I don’t think there’ll be anything in the others because it’s obvious they only changed the one but you’d best check just in case, you never know.”