A Duty of Revenge Read online

  10:30 Monday, 1st February 1999

  ‘Right, gentlemen, let’s move on. Mr Jones, please update the meeting on the current state of major enquiries in the force.’

  ACC (Operations) Paul Jones selected a paper from his loose-leaf file, snapping the clips noisily as he did so, while other members of Strategy Team sorted through their papers for copies of the same report that had been circulated earlier. Before the meeting, Crabbe had told the ambitious young ACC that he expected his support in reducing the number of officers engaged on the force’s several major enquiries. Within minutes, it had been agreed to end the five-month-old investigation into a fatal stabbing in Grimsby, despite reasoned arguments from the SIO set out in the report. Objections from the Head of CID, Detective Chief Superintendent “Wizz” Wilson, an old-school detective who Crabbe regarded as long past his sell-by date, were ignored.

  Crabbe looked challengingly around his most senior officers. ‘Moving quickly on… let’s look at Darnley’s cases.’

  They all scanned the comprehensive yet succinct report prepared by Detective Superintendent Matt Darnley. Firstly, he had outlined the successful conclusion of the murder of Sonia Daggett with the charging of her husband and recommended that the incident room at Hessle Police Station be closed by the end of the month. Crabbe smiled contentedly.

  All attention then focussed on what were currently the force’s two most high-profile major crime enquiries. Both Darnley’s – and both undetected.

  Major Inquiry Status Report

  Detective Superintendent M. Darnley

  27 January 1999

  Murder of David Emmerson / Tiger Kidnap & Robbery at Hardstone Building Society on 10 December 1998.

  Status: Undetected.

  Strategy Team are familiar with the facts of this case from last month’s report.

  Ongoing main lines of inquiry

  1.Trace Vauxhall Vectra, N348 JAT, seen at scene of False Imprisonment at Atwick, 10 weeks prior to the crime. The as yet unknown driver of this vehicle, a tall white male, aged approximately 35 years may have been involved in the offence.

  2.Trace BMW 5 series car, believed R (1997) registration plate and dark in colour used by offenders.

  3.Trace, interview and eliminate associates of deceased David Emmerson.

  4.Investigate links to Newcastle area where five separate £20 notes stolen from the building society have been recovered.

  5.A small number of outstanding forensic results are awaited from all scenes, although to date all results have been negative. Ballistic results on bullet recovered from Emmerson’s body are still awaited.

  6.House-to-house enquiries around all scenes now complete.

  7.Explore links to Bridlington Post Office Tiger Kidnap in September 1998.

  Investigation Summary. A serious and unusual crime for Humberside that I believe is linked to the similar crime at Bridlington in September last year. There are no concrete leads other than the recovered money and the as yet untraced Vauxhall car. However, the incident has already recorded 1,210 statements. 2,312 actions have been completed, 400 are currently being investigated and there are 700 actions raised and awaiting allocation. There remain several potential forensic hits. The inquiry remains “live” and I am confident it will be detected. The incident team is based at Driffield and consists of myself, 2 detective inspectors, 4 detective sergeants, 12 detective constables and 3 civilian indexers. 2 uniformed FLOs are attached part time. Team now working normal hours with overtime only allocated for necessary actions.

  Recommendation: MIR at Driffield continues with same staffing until next month’s report.

  False Imprisonment and GBH to Sean Grantmore on 16 January 1999.

  Status: Undetected

  Prolific/target local criminal Grantmore was handcuffed naked to a massage table in one of his own massage parlours by a female only known as Katia, ostensibly in preparation for a consensual sex act. The female was newly employed at the parlour and initially believed to be an Eastern European illegal immigrant. Her true nationality and identity remain unknown. While he was so restrained, the female facilitated entry into the room of an unidentified male, who passed her a bulky brown envelope we are presuming to be cash. The man then injected bleach into Grantmore’s right eye before disfiguring the area of that eye with an X-shape cut, utilising a modelling knife. The assailant left a note on Grantmore’s chest, which stated, “Wink now you bastard”. The assailant fled the scene. Grantmore has lost the sight of the eye and is badly disfigured.

  The chief suspect is Russell Holland, 47 years. Grantmore was acquitted of the rape of Holland’s 17-year-old daughter Lisa at Hull Crown Court on 15 December 1998 and upon the jury returning its verdict, Russell Holland attacked Grantmore in the dock. As you are aware, I took the decision to caution Holland for this assault, him being a man of previous good character.

  In her evidence, Lisa referred to Grantmore winking as part of his chat-up technique, and he gave her a very obvious wink upon his acquittal. This was picked up on by the press.

  Holland and his daughter were arrested and interviewed. Neither admits any involvement and to date no evidence – other than the obvious motive and note – has been found to link them to it. I have personally spoken to both Lisa Holland and Russ Holland since their arrest and interviews. I have apologised to them both for the arrest of Lisa, which I consider to have been ill-judged. Mr Holland remains extremely angry towards Grantmore as a result of his acquittal on the rape charges. You will recall that he provided no responses whatsoever in interview. Forensic results have proved negative and there are very few useful lines of inquiry remaining.

  My own view of this crime is that a criminal rival has attacked Grantmore, using the well-reported rape acquittal as a smokescreen. I honestly cannot see a middle-aged man with no previous convictions capable of such a well-planned and executed, vicious attack, however angry he may be.

  Recommendation: Although a serious and unusual crime, I agreed to run this as a divisional incident, using only divisional staff. The inquiry should continue, but I estimate all useful lines of inquiry will be completed by the end of this month.

  Matt Darnley

  Detective Superintendent

  ‘Two very unusual crimes,’ said the Chief. ‘Is this Grantmore business going to blow over, Paul?’

  ‘I think so. As Darnley says, there’s no evidence against the Hollands other than the obvious motive, and he seems convinced of the criminal rival theory. It’s very unlike Darnley to admit he’s not hopeful in detecting major crime, but I suggest this crime will be wrapped up in drugs, people trafficking and prostitution. I suggest we just let it run its natural course. He’s only using a DI, a DS and two DCs.’

  ‘We should leave the Driffield incident at full strength too, sir,’ chipped in DCS Wilson. ‘The National Criminal Intelligence Service is really interested in this job, particularly the tiger kidnap element, the potential links to the other robbery at Bridlington and it involving the murder of one of their own gang.’

  ‘I’ve already had all this glory-boys stuff from Darnley. He’s had almost two months and got nowhere, so I’m cutting the staff from next Monday.’

  The Chief looked around the table at his fellow ACPO officers, his four Divisional Commanders and Head of CID as if to challenge anyone to disagree.

  ‘With respect, sir, I disagree,’ Chief Superintendent Sharples from C Division volunteered. ‘I’m having weekly meetings with Matt and he’s doing a thorough job and we should let him keep the staff a while
longer. We can’t allow undetected crimes like this in the East Riding.’ Provocatively, he continued, ‘Sorting out serious crime is far more reassuring for the public than coppers on the beat.’

  ‘With your division’s poor detection rate, I’d have thought you’d have wanted your staff back on normal duties, let alone high-visibility patrol,’ said Jones. He turned to the Chief. ‘I agree, sir. We need to scale the inquiry down now.’

  None of the other divisional commanders demurred, all keen to get their staff back.

  ‘Agreed then. Paul, get hold of Darnley this afternoon and negotiate a scaled-down team… it’s up to you what size of team you leave him with… and no overtime from here on in, unless it’s for arrests. And Mr Sharples, the policy of this force is to focus its primary effort upon high-visibility foot patrol. I need my divisional commanders to be four-square behind that policy… do I make myself clear?’

  ‘You have no need to remind me of the policy of the force, sir. But surely the purpose of Strategy Team is for all members to speak their minds, express their views and in that way maintain a healthy balance in force policies.’

  Sharples folded his arms and held Crabbe’s icy stare, while maintaining a most amiable expression that was intended to rile him further. However, his defiant composure rapidly evaporated when Paul Jones interjected.

  ‘So, Chief Superintendent Sharples, how do your views about public reassurance and balanced policies reconcile with the recent behaviour of three of your officers at Beverley?’

  Sharples knew exactly what was coming, but he had no idea that the ACC knew anything about the events of the previous night. Clearly, neither did anyone else seated around the table. The embarrassed paper shuffling that had accompanied Sharples’ exchange with the Chief suddenly ceased, and all eyes flitted from the almost exultant Paul Jones to the deflated Divisional Commander of the East Riding.

  ‘I trust you are aware of the brawl between an on-duty uniformed sergeant and an off-duty young constable in Saturday Market Place last night?’ Jones asked.

  The ACC looked smugly at the Chief for approval and continued. ‘A sergeant who, I might add, is in his early forties and carrying on a sordid affair with a married twenty-five-year-old police officer on his own shift. His attacker was the policewoman’s cuckolded husband.’

  He sat back, triumphant.

  However, Sharples had decided that it was now “shit or bust” and he jumped to his feet and leaning forward on the table, he spoke directly to the Chief Constable.

  ‘Your ACC bringing up a confidential matter that should be left to me and my staff to deal with is typical of his somewhat archaic management style and is totally inappropriate at Strategy Team. I am aware of the incident, have spoken to Professional Standards Branch, and the matter is in hand.’

  Paul Jones now rose from the table, doing his best to look authoritative and dignified. ‘How dare you question—’

  ‘Sit down, Paul.’ The Chief interrupted in a calm but commanding tone. ‘My office, please, Mr Sharples. You can tell me about this matter in private… which is how I would have expected to have been informed. Ask Sally to make us a cup of tea,’ he added pleasantly, gathering his papers and rising from the table. ‘Paul, get hold of Superintendent Darnley and sort out the staffing on the Emmerson incident. Then see me in my office straight after lunch.’

  He strode from the room followed by Sharples.

  The ACC looked around at his fellow officers, clearly hoping for words of support but found none, most studiously ignoring him, busying themselves collecting up papers or chatting with each other. Only his fellow ACC (Personnel and Support) Jane Greenhall met his gaze, shaking her head with a look of pity mixed with disdain. The ACC (Operations) job was as good as hers – Jones was welcome to Personnel and Support.

  Ten

  That Same Day

  Thirty miles away from the rarefied air in Strategy Team, in Driffield, I was waiting for the call that I knew would come when that meeting ended. Part of my duty as an SIO was to regularly brief the divisional commander in whose division the crime had taken place. Martin Sharples was entirely supportive and also seriously interested in detecting the crime. Earlier that week, we had surmised that Crabbe would want to cut staffing levels, and Martin agreed he would try his best to keep the full team on the job, but we knew that unless the inquiry kicked into life before Strategy Team met, we had no chance.

  As I read another pile of entirely necessary but entirely unhelpful statements, my mobile rang. Expecting it to be ACC Jones, I let it ring without answering it, childishly making him try a landline. When it rang again, I pulled it from my pocket, seeing a number I didn’t recognise. When I answered with my rank and name, a strident female voice began a tirade of abuse.

  After about thirty seconds of foul-mouthed invective, I realised that the caller was Anne Beedham, who I had not seen since she climbed into the back of PC Peter Granger’s police car, in that tight skirt, on the day of her ordeal. It seemed that wasn’t the only place into which she had climbed with my young FLO.

  In graphic detail, she recounted how they had been having an affair almost since that very day but that he had now decided to end things and patch things up with his wife. Having correctly identified Mrs Beedham from the outset as trouble – sexy as hell – but trouble, my intuition was confirmed.

  ‘He’s been shagging me in his uniform… on duty… in my bed when my old man’s been at work. It’s in my diary… so I can prove it… I want him sacked!’

  Talk about a woman scorned.

  After ten minutes, I had calmed her down and made an appointment to see her the following afternoon. There was no way I was going there on my own and was thankful I’d managed to wangle Jo Young onto the inquiry, swapping her for a DC from Central who was required at court for a two-week trial. I reassured Mrs Beedham that I would take the matter seriously, as indeed I would have to do, as this was taking your responsibilities for looking after family members several steps too far and putting the whole investigation in jeopardy. What the hell was I going to do with Granger? Yet again in our very short relationship, I re-assessed the young cop’s abilities.

  Ten seconds after I had hung up on Anne Beedham, my mobile rang again. I recognised Martin Sharples’ number and guessed he was about to tip me off about Crabbe’s decision but was surprised when he too started to talk about PC Granger. In disappointed tones, he explained how last night young Peter had assaulted a sergeant who was having an affair with his wife and unfortunately for Martin, all three were officers based at Beverley, and thus under his command.

  ‘To make matters worse, the daft young bugger did it in the middle of Beverley at pub chucking-out time and then legged it like some bloody yob, and we haven’t tracked him down yet,’ bemoaned Sharples. ‘It’s a bloody shame, he’s a good lad and I know you’ve been pleased with him on your inquiry. Between you and me, his wife’s a right slag and the sergeant he smacked is an idle waster… and he’s the lass’s sergeant, so he’s in the shit as well.’

  It was obvious he would have to face disciplinary charges and be suspended. I was about to add my tale of woe about Mrs Beedham’s allegations but something made me hold my tongue. While Martin went on glumly to tell me about my team being reduced in numbers, and to expect a call from Jones, my mind was focussed upon PC Granger’s predicament. The lad was looking at the sack without much doubt, but surely a bloke who has shagged another chap’s wife deserves a thump? Especially when he’s her senior officer. Here was someone else who deserved a caution. That old revenge versus justice debate again. But could I say the same for his indiscretions with Mrs Beedham? I thought back to my meeting with her and determined that she was probably the predator and he wouldn’t have stood a bloody chance – a rabbit versus a fox. The clincher was when I asked myself what I’d have done at his age in the self-same circumstances. So, as Chief Superintendent Sharples asked me to fi
nd PC Granger and send him directly to his office, I decided to keep Anne Beedham’s outrage to myself – at least for the time being.

  ‘Thanks for trying with Strategy Team, mate. I appreciate it. I can still manage… we just need a break. It’ll come. I’ll get Granger over to you as soon as I can.’

  I ended the call and immediately my phone rang for a third time. It was the man himself.

  ‘Afternoon, sir. Are you at Driffield, or in your office at Central? I need to see you urgently.’

  ‘I bet you do. I’m in the incident room.’

  ‘Oh… I guess you’ve heard about last night? I was going to tell you but something more important has come up. I know they’ll suspend me but you need to see and hear this before anyone else does.’

  He seemed almost breathless, and very excited – and not at all worried.

  ‘Get your arse in here. I think there’s even more than that you need to tell me. I’ve had your girlfriend on the phone.’

  ‘She’s not my girlfriend, sir, we’re married. We’re going to patch it up after this. She’s realised that Knaggs was just using her… she loves me.’

  What did I say. He knows fuck all about women.

  ‘In here now!’ I shouted, and cut the call.

  *

  It was about forty-five minutes before he appeared, during which time I’d tried to figure out why I was even contemplating doing anything other than just washing my hands of him. I just couldn’t weigh him up. One minute showing great promise, and the next – a ruddy car crash.