Caroline said, ‘Most males had on T-shirts and jeans. Did you wear the jacket because it could accommodate the sheathed knife out of sight?’ A jacket to carry the weapon could be more proof of preparedness, calculation and intent, but that point had already been conceded and Kopner let this go now, also.
Caroline said, ‘And then someone from outside the two battle groups arrived – a man older than any of you and he tried to calm things, yes? He scared you, perhaps. We now know him to be Frank Louis Waverton, possibly present as a supplier of gear, or foreman and escort of some suppliers. At any rate, not present to rave.’
‘He told us to cool it,’ Dite said. ‘He worried in case trouble spread and buggered up trading. Maybe he was on a percentage. His clothes looked pricey. He might need the cash.’
‘Did he frighten you?’
‘He was big. He had that way with him.’
‘Which?’ Caroline said.
‘Sort of no messing with him. Professional.’
‘Professional what?’
‘Crook. Heavy.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said to stop pissing around, he had a business to run. Along those lines but with more swearing.’
‘You can unveil the words. I’ll have heard them before, I expect. If not, there’s a dictionary in one of the drawers.’
‘He said, stop pissing around and chuck the fucking aggro, he had a fucking business to run.’ Dite gave a slight shrug, as if to say Caroline had asked for it and so there it was, verbatim, expletives undeleted.
‘Was there any response to that?’ Caroline said.
‘Someone said, like, “It’s not your business, is it? You’re no baron, only here because you’ve been sent by Shale or Ralphy Ember. You’re just a worker.” Yes, “just a worker”, that was the phrase, like destroying his pomp.’
‘Who said it?’
‘A guy I didn’t know, still don’t know.’
‘Undergraduate?’
‘Most likely. About that age and cheek.’
‘Any reply?’
‘“I am who I am,” the man said. Waverton? Was that the name you gave?’
‘Yes, Frank Louis Waverton,’ Caroline said.
‘Right.’
‘Was there more?’
‘He said, “And you’ll do what I tell you or you won’t get out of this place in recognizable form”.’
‘“I am who I am”?’ Caroline said. ‘Blimey.’
‘Yes, like God in the Old Testament. After that, things went quiet, except for the music. Then he spoke again. He became very mild-voiced and threatening: “Anything in my way, I remove it. You’re in my way, laddy, if there’s more stupidity”.’
‘Then what?’
‘He went back to where he was before and stood near one of the dealers.’
‘Then what?’
‘Someone said we were rubbish and yellow for listening to him when he was only a dirty spy and a stinking traitor.’
Iles grunted. It might have been involuntary excitement that the topic had been reached at last. It might have been a terse signal to Caroline to dig for more in this area. That was how she seemed to react. Caroline might be clever enough to pick up this unspoken order from the assistant chief. ‘Who said that?’ she asked.
‘About being a spy?’
‘Yes?’
‘I didn’t know him, either. And then others said the same kind of thing. The music was still back at top volume so it was hard to keep track of what was going on – what people were saying – but some did seem to agree with that stuff about the spying, like some of them had heard rumours involving this Waverton. There are always rumours in the drugs scene – the companies are known about, naturally: Ember’s, Shale’s, and the choice they offer.’
‘And the fighting, did it restart now?’
‘Some shoving and snarling, but nothing bad, not straight away. Customary. There was another break in the music. The first guy – the one who said Waverton was only a worker – he …’
Dite hesitated. He glanced about the room as though reluctant to let the recording and filming machines make permanent what he would say now.
‘Look, you’re not going to like this,’ he said. ‘I ought to tell you in advance.’
‘More swearing? Try me,’ Caroline replied.
‘This first guy says, “Cover-up. It’s bloody obvious.”’
‘What cover-up?’ Caroline said.
‘Police cover-up.’
‘Covering up what?’
‘The situation.’
‘Which?’
‘The murder of the woman and the boy in the ambush.’
‘He was suggesting a link to that? Mrs Shale and her stepson, Laurent?’
‘Right. It’s the kind of gossip around, I gather. This first guy shouts that the gunman in the ambush got wiped out, and no inquiries beyond, to do with, like, who sent him? Someone big, powerful, a super-villain looking to spread, to expand. Money involved? Money at a high level?’
‘What did he mean by that – a high pile of money?’
‘It might be a high pile of money, but he meant the money must have gone to a high level … I told you you wouldn’t like this – he meant money to a high level in the police, to someone, or more than one, who could control things and make sure the investigation didn’t press further than the hired hitman, a nobody, a violence flunky.’
‘Did he have information about this?’
‘I don’t know. It’s what he said. The music kicked in again and there’s hardly any more talk. Some people from both the groups drift off to dance.’
‘Which music?’ Caroline asked.
‘Some of the group’s own stuff, but Bahamas-style,’ he said.
‘Like “Bitter Memories”?’ Iles asked.
‘Sort of, yes,’ Dite said. He glanced over to Iles, surprised at the interruption.
‘Yet real fun in some Bahamas numbers,’ Iles said. ‘Not all bitter memories.’
‘No,’ Dite said. ‘And then, suddenly, I see this guy who’d been in the toilets with Avril coming at me, crouched but moving fast, his eyes mad and full of hate. People got out of his way, gave him a path direct to me. They were scared. Oh, I should have said Avril was with me again. She’d come back, as if it had all been nothing with this Vaughan guy. But it was like he wanted her and would get rid of me if I tried to stop him. There’d be no sense trying to talk to him. He was beyond that.’
‘And so you pull the knife?’ Caroline said.
‘It’s as you said earlier. I had on this denim jacket with an inside pocket. I could get at it fast.’
Kopner said, ‘He’d anticipated possible trouble and had to be able to reach his protective weapon quickly. This explains the jacket. Probably illegal to be carrying the chiv, but understandable.’
‘Three blows,’ Caroline said.
‘He seemed to be coming on after the first two,’ Dite said.
‘Two were deep chest wounds, very near the heart,’ Caroline said. ‘He could still move?’
‘I hadn’t stopped him.’
‘He’s very close, yes? Didn’t you see at this late point that he was unarmed?’ Caroline asked
‘But by this stage my client was committed,’ Kopner said. ‘He had to make himself and Avril safe.’
‘And Waverton? Where was he?’ Caroline asked
‘I didn’t notice. I don’t know whether he tried to intervene again,’ Dite said.
‘If he did it didn’t work, did it?’ Caroline said.
‘That’s extremely uncalled for,’ Kopner said.
‘I don’t mind a bit of high-mindedness and piety from a lawyer now and then, Kopner,’ Iles replied. ‘I can assure you I don’t find it in the least nauseating. I’m glad to place this on record. You’re absolutely entitled to use any kind of tactics to get yourself ahead of the prosecution. I thought that aggrieved comment from you came over as brilliantly heartfelt and sincere. Many would accept it for what it sought to be
. Congratulations!’
Iles got up and walked towards Caroline and Dite where they sat one on each side of a small table. There was a carafe of water on it and a couple of glasses.
The ACC stood alongside Dite. ‘So, Vaughan on the floor, blood a-plenty, kids trying to stop the flow with garments folded to make pads, I expect. Mouth-to-mouth, anyone? But you don’t remember whether Waverton returned to see what had happened?’
‘There would be inevitable confusion,’ Kopner said.
‘Things are a blur from the time I saw him coming at me and I went for the knife,’ Dite replied.
‘To protect yourself,’ Kopner said.
‘To protect myself,’ Dite said.
‘Unblur them,’ Iles said.
‘I don’t think he was there,’ Dite replied.
‘He’d got clear, bailed out, had he?’ Iles said. ‘Despite the din he might have heard people calling him a two-timing accessory before the fact to a murder, another murder, a double murder of totally harmless people. His street-cred, rave-cred, had gone. A necessary fast exit.’
‘Speculation,’ Kopner said.
‘Got anything better?’ Iles replied.
TWENTY-THREE
The Vaughan murder had taken place too late at night to figure in the city’s morning newspaper but Harpur had seen and heard television and radio reports of the death before he set out with Iles after a couple hours’ sleep to the Fonton interrogation. Denise had done an extensive fried breakfast for them – two eggs each, one sausage each, bacon, mushrooms, black pudding – and then driven the children to school in her Fiat, on her way to a lecture later at the university.
By midday television had a full bulletin locally and on the national networks covering the Binnacle violence. When the interrogation session had ended and Dite was taken back to the cells, Harpur and Iles stayed on alone in the room and watched the BBC TV news on Harpur’s phone. He knew that evening newspapers would pick up the story, and tomorrow’s dailies in the morning. Media editors adored this kind of tale, and especially television editors. He could imagine their whooped reaction: ‘Lavish pleasure turning to tragedy, symbolic touches as to the way we live now, some of us, with good visuals!’
The central good visual in this tale was the Binnacle itself and the setting: the beach, the two uninhabited Nivot tidal islands, and the sea. The Binnacle retained some of its original handsomeness and distinction, but was obviously tumbling into decay, neglected, unrepaired, battered by coastal storms, abused by vandals, commandeered by ravers and drug dealers, and further debased by a sordid, pothead knifing.
Yes, the place had symbolism. The editors wouldn’t bother to define very closely even to themselves what exactly the symbolism was, but it clearly had to do with the termination of one-time classy and privileged leisure and a steep slide into … into something else; no need to define that, either; no way of doing that without sounding corny, square and snobbish. Not good for ratings; the way we live now would cover it.
Harpur half-wished Denise was with him. He had an idea that the Shakespeare play, Romeo and Juliet, contained stabbings caused by girls or a girl and he would have liked to check if the Binnacle disaster had some similar incidents. Instead of Denise, Harpur mentioned the possible comparison to Iles.
‘Yes,’ the ACC said, ‘but sloping off to the lavs for whatever purpose is a uniquely modern touch.’
The television teams must have arrived pretty soon after dawn. There were still some ravers hanging about. Vaughan’s body had been removed but the screening tent remained in place and the camera could linger on that while the reporter gave her terse account of the fatality. Then the camera roamed about inside what she called ‘the one-time banqueting hall, now, for one night, a dance floor’, showing torn, drooping wallpaper, fragments of broken furniture, the lower panels of double doors to what had been the kitchens kicked through, the mahogany banister to stairs leading down from the bar torn from its rails and lying among brick and glass debris on the floor.
‘This is atmosphere, Col,’ Iles said. ‘This is poignancy. This is mutability.’ The pictures enthralled him. Concern about his Adam’s apple got relegated.
The television reporter talked to Francis Garland and to eyewitnesses.
(a) Garland:
He gave what Harpur recognized, of course, as the formal account in the formula language of formal accounts. ‘I can confirm that a twenty-year-old male died from knife wounds after an altercation at an illegal dancing event, or so-called “rave”, here, at the former Binnacle Hotel, in the early hours of this morning. The dead male has not been officially identified but is thought to be Wyn Normanton Vaughan, a third-year undergraduate at the city’s university, and to come from Brecon, Powys, Wales. On the assumption that this identification is correct Wyn Normanton Vaughan’s parents have been informed. It is understood they are on holiday in Australia and will return as soon as possible.
‘The reason for the altercation is not at this stage clear but police are considering all possibilities. A male undergraduate from Berwick-on-Tweed, also aged twenty, has been arrested on suspicion of murder. Witnesses to the disturbance are helping officers with their inquiries, which will be on-going through the day, and beyond if necessary. No charges have been made.
‘We believe there were two stages to the incident. A disagreement arose and scuffling between two groups ensued. No weapons were used at this point. A middle-aged man who was present intervened and seemed able to restore calm. But shortly afterwards the disturbance recommenced and quickly developed into an affray during which Wyn Normanton Vaughan received several knife wounds to the upper body and fell to the floor. Some of those nearby tried first aid and an ambulance was called. It arrived within fifteen minutes. Paramedics gave further treatment but at 3.55 a.m. he was declared dead at the scene.’
(b) Lorna Pettigrew (driving instructor):
‘At first it was just like the sort of squabble that sometimes happens at raves of this kind – boys showing off, being Mr Hardman, that sort of thing, you know? It could have been about a girl. Not me! No, no, no. A sort of jealousy thing. It’s always a possible when you get crowds and music, most people a bit high, like.
‘Then what seemed to be a real Mr Hardman, older, hefty, bossy came and told them to get sensible, not to behave like twirps. Some swearing: “fucking” this and that. Rage. He made them sound sort of juvenile – schoolchildren scrapping in the playground. It seemed to work. Like calm came. Some people went back to the dancing and so on. But a few seemed to know this Mr Hardman. They had a name – Waverton? Frank Waverton?’
(c) Harry Brightman (postman, Lorna’s friend):
‘Yes, Waverton. A few seemed to recognize him. That would be from other gigs, I should think. They did seem to know about a bad side to him, a dark side. Some said – not said, yelled – some shouted he shouldn’t be able to tell people how to behave. The roughhouse began again and then … and then the knife and all this.’
(d) Garland:
‘We will be talking to Mr Waverton and others.’
In the interrogation room, watching all this on the minor screen, Iles said, ‘Not sure I like that, Col.’
‘What, sir?’
‘Implications here, Harpur.’
‘Which?’
‘In some ways a plus, I’ll concede that.’
‘Which?’
‘These kids, mouthing the accusations against him.’
‘Of treachery?’
‘Of treachery. They are kids who might be users, Well, no “might” about it. They certainly are users. And so they pick up talk inside the drugs scene, including these suspicions about Waverton. This is one of the reasons we’re here for the interrogation, isn’t it, Col? They speak the kind of information I’m looking for. This is a considerable plus.’
‘We can’t say “information”, sir. Rumour.’
‘Why I stress rumour from inside the trade. And it comes from more than one voice. This is substantial, Harpur,
very high-grade rumour, bordering on the undeniable.’
‘Possibly. It might be more than one voice but with the same wobbly source.’
‘Don’t undervalue rumour, Col. Who was it said history was just a distillation of rumour?’
‘I’m always getting asked that, sir,’ Harpur replied.
‘I need these rumours to be right, Harpur, absolutely need them to be right. But you will answer in your honest, cramped, banal, unimaginative way, what I need is not the same as what is.’
‘What you need, sir, is not the same as what is,’ Harpur replied.
‘You mean, “Oh, reason not the need”?’
‘Someone else said that?’
‘We’re having a Shakespeare session, Col.’
‘He definitely had a way with words. This has been noted by all sorts, at home and abroad. And so many words, some totally spot-on, which is why they’ve come down through the ages. The ability with words is known as a “facility”. I mean those words came easily to him. He didn’t need to be looking them up to check. We should all be very pleased with William Shakespeare. Ideas never stopped coming to him, and he was willing to share them with the population via plays.’
‘Did you ever think of becoming an English literature don at Oxford, Harpur?’
‘As a matter of fact, I’ve always fancied an evening at one of those piggish, pissed-as-a-fart dinners called gaudies.’
‘Waverton’s name – the mentions,’ Iles replied. ‘This is the debit side, the peril side of Binnacle. His name is networked. The national papers will have more on him tomorrow. People who hired Frank Waverton to plan Sandicott Terrace won’t be happy to hear several of those kids felt there was something wrong with him, something secret and dubious.’
‘We don’t know he had any involvement in Sandicott, sir, although you might need to know he did. After all, Waverton is still working for Manse Shale. Is that likely if he’s suspected of betrayal? You mentioned The Godfather quote about keeping your enemies closer than your friends, but I’m not so sure.’
‘Fucking touché, Col, or re-touché. No, we don’t know and probably Manse doesn’t know, either. He might be waiting for confirmation before he acts. Shale is like that – scrupulous in his own fashion, unhurried. But, although we don’t know in italics, we can wonder. We can intelligently, or even inspirationally, wonder. True, Lorna and Harry didn’t seem clear on what was dubious about Waverton, but some of Garland’s other witnesses might spell out the traitorous side.’