Sheehys voice was fading out, replaced by the sound of blood rushing through Warrens ears. His fathers inquest.
He still remembered that day. The courtroom had been nothing like hed expected it to be from the TV. A small, wood-panelled room with a row of tables for the interested parties to sitinterested parties such as Warren, his mother and his grandparents. A chair sat empty for his brother who hadnt come home the previous night. Behind them several lines of blue plastic chairs constituting the public gallery were mostly filled with journalists, representatives from the Police Federation and a few family friends. Nobody from the station that Niall MacNamara had worked at for more than half his career were present. None of his police friends. Hed been dropped; nobody wanted to be associated with him now, the thief whod stolen drugs money then taken the cowards way out.
The formal hearing had been a short, almost anti-climactic affair, delivered by the coroner sitting at his slightly raised dais, a much younger version of the man in the newspaper photograph. The family already knew the verdict, having been told quietly beforehand.
Suicide. Carbon monoxide poisoning from his own car engine, administered by a hosepipe attached to the exhaust, an empty bottle of whisky by his side. Found by his teenage son. No suspicious circumstances.
No mention was made of why he did it; that was beyond the purview of the court. But everyone in that room knew the rumours, were aware of the investigation underway. And you cant libel the dead.
Sheehys voice pulled Warren back to the present. Your father didnt commit suicide; he was killed. Revenge for what he did? I dont know. But I knew the moment I got the call about your dads death it wasnt a suicide. Ive known for over twenty years.
He continued to avoid Warrens eyes, having the sense not to try and apologise. He couldnt; the words didnt exist that could in any way lessen his guilt, to begin to atone for the literally decades of hurt that hed help cause.
Why? That one word was all Warren could manage. A half-dozen questions were all rolled into that one word.
Fear. I was scared, Warren. Shit-scared. Theyd killed your father and covered it up. Somehow they hadnt fingered me as his accomplicetoo junior I guess. My name didnt appear on any paperwork. So I kept quiet.
He still wouldnt meet Warrens eyes.
He was supposed to die in prison, kidney failure. Hed been on dialysis for years. They even put it forward in mitigation, tried to get him a shorter sentence. Perhaps it worked. With the case we had he could have gotten life with thirty years. He got twenty-two. I forgot about him. Got on with my life.
And then he got a new kidney. God love the NH fucking S. His name came up on the transplant list as the best match and before you know it some poor donors kidney is inside that bastards body.
The kidney took, he served the rest of his sentence and now hes free.
Sheehys voice was a mixture of bitterness and fear. And now hes clearing the decks. Settling scores and cleaning up his mess. Reggie Williamson for his betrayal and Anton Liebig because he was a loose end who could link him back to his first act of revengethe death of your father.
And that just leaves me. Im the only one left.
Warren found his voice. I still dont understand. What has this got to do with the current investigation into your misconduct?
Its a set-up; its all fake. Delmarno wants his payback, but killing me would be too easy. Hes had two decades to dream about what he wants to do to me and he wants to do it slowly. He wants to ruin me, send me to prison and make me suffer like he did. And then, when Im finished and due for parole, thats when hell probably make his final move. Ill be dead before I walk out that prison.
Chapter 10
Warren received a less than rapturous welcome when he returned to the station.
My office, now.
The roasting from Grayson was pretty much what hed been expecting; the man had been unable to decide which of Warrens misdemeanours should be addressed first and in the end had simply settled on a chronological listing: getting in a car with a potential killer, removing his earpiece so he could no longer receive instructions, leaving a contained area with a suspect, circumventing surveillance and ignoring procedures for the collection of a witness statement.
However, Grayson had reserved most of his vitriol for Warrens apparent agreement to help his predecessor fight the charges against his name. Sheehy had said nothing about it where they could be overheard, but Grayson wasnt a fool. It was obvious that was what Sheehy was after.
Its not your job to help some bent copper fight Professional Standards. The Federation and his lawyers can do that. Youve got enough on your plate solving this murder; besides, we can do without the negative publicity. Were going to have enough shit flying at us when this comes to court next month without the press getting wind of your escapades.
Warren stood and took the flak, mostly allowing the shouting to wash over him. It was to be expected and he was too emotionally tired to care about a bollocking that would ultimately lead nowhere. Regardless, he was struck by two remarks all-but buried within the verbiage; the first a cynical observation that Grayson had never concerned himself before with the amount of work piled on Warrens platehe usually loaded it as gleefully as a glutton at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Secondly, it was the first time that Warren could recall the man referring to Middlesbury as we or us.
After the obligatory threat that he was contemplating suspending Warren, Grayson finally asked what Sheehy had to offer.
Thats it? he responded when Warren had finished. This Reggie Williamson offered a gun to Sheehy back in the 1980s, which Sheehy then planted at the scene of a crime to frame him and now this Vinny Delmarno character wants his revenge? Sheehy really is a dirty bastard. It sounds like its all coming back to bite him on the arse.
Well, its not as if Delmarno is an innocent in all of this, Warren found himself defending Sheehya position he was not exactly comfortable with.
Grayson was dismissive. Who gives a shit about Delmarno? He got what he deserved. Besides, its clear that Sheehy has form when it comes to corruption. He sighed. Regardless, its something. See where it takes you. Is there anything else?
No, sir. The lie came more smoothly than Warren was comfortable with.
Well lets hope this leads us somewhere. This afternoons little jaunt cost us an arm and a leg.
The dismissal was clear and Warren wasted no time turning for the door.
Oh and Warren, take that bloody stab vest off or everybody will see through this carefully cultivated, cuddly facade.
* * *
Warrens first stop on leaving Graysons office was DS Peter Kents desk. The veteran detective looked up.
You survived, I see. Those vests are worth every penny.
Warren smiled tightly. Apparently coming out of the Supers office wearing one ruins his cuddly image.
Kent snorted in amusement. His barks worse than his bite. Although he can certainly bark loud enough.
Warren winced. Kent was at the far end of the room from Graysons office. You heard that then?
He smiled. Why do you think half the office has gone for a coffee break? Kents smile faded. How was he?
No need to ask who he was.
Warren shrugged, replying cagily, I never met him before today, so I cant say if he was any different to when he worked here.
Kent said nothing, waiting.
But unless he was unkempt and a daytime drinker when you knew him, hes probably not doing as well as you hope.
Warrens sympathy for his predecessor was close to non-existent; however, he had been a much-loved boss and people like Pete Kent had known him for years. Warren would have to be careful not to be too dismissive of their feelings.
What can I do for you anyhow, Chief?
Although all officers in CID could use HOLMES 2, the service-wide computer database that was used to store records and reports on major incidents, Warren had a feeling hed need specialist help.
I need details on a cold case from the eighties. Will they be available electronically?
DS Kent looked at him warily. They might be. The original HOLMES went live in 1986 for major incidents, but its a bit patchy. It hasnt got half the functionality of HOLMES 2 and some forces still did a lot of their record keeping manually, scanning them in after the fact. The cross-referencing can be pretty poor. What do you need?
I need the records for a joint Hertfordshire West Midlands Police operation concluded in 1988. I dont have an operation name, but it resulted in the conviction of a Vinny Delmarno. If you could get me his records as well, that would be great. Warren glanced at the clock above Kents head; the mans shift finished in half an hour. Actually, get Gary on it when he returns from his break.
Ill do it, Chief. Im not in a rush. Garys finishing himself in a few hours then he and Karen are off on that dirty get-away they think nobody knows about. Ill only end up reinventing the wheel if he starts the job and then hands it over.
Warren thanked the man and turned to head back to his office, before another idea struck him. Could you also get onto Revenue and Customs and check the tax and National Insurance returns for Reggie Williamson during the same time period? Id like to know what he was doing and who he was working for back then.
Ill see what I can do, the older man promised, but it may take a while. HMRC deal with most requests during office hours.
Well do what you can. Ill be in my office. Print it out when youre done.
One last thought occurred to him, he glanced over at Graysons office before leaning in to Kent. Do me a favour and keep this between us for the time being.
Kent glanced over at Graysons office and smirked slightly, as Warren had known he would. Of course.
* * *
Tony Sutton was a lot politer than Detective Superintendent Grayson. Nevertheless he made it quite clear how reckless he thought his DCI had been; and was similarly disapproving of Warrens tacit agreement to help clear Sheehys name as a reward for more information.
Warren had wrestled with the revelations that Sheehy had made all the way back to CID. Hed been standing in front of Grayson, absorbing the mans anger before hed eventually decided that he wasnt ready to share everything Sheehy had revealed to him or broach the subject of his fathers death with the man.
The wound that Sheehy had so brutally reopened on Middlesbury Common was gaping wide and Warren was confused and bewildered; however, his instincts were telling him that he couldnt trust the man until he knew more.
To somebody of Warrens age, those events in the mid eighties seemed a lifetime ago, but he was uncomfortably aware that officers such as Gavin Sheehy and John Grayson had started their careers back then and were still in the force today, working in positions of influence and responsibility.
Sheehys account had almost made it sound as if he and MacNamara had planned the whole stitch-up single-handedly, but even back in the eighties the police didnt work that way. The two officers would have been part of a much larger team and it was almost inconceivable that they worked alone or were even the masterminds of the subterfuge. Until Warren read the report on the case, he wasnt sharing the contents of the manila folder, sandwiched between his stab vest and shirt, with anybody.
Chapter 11
Is that all weve got?
The pile of printouts was surprisingly small for such a major incident.
For the moment. West Mids were charged with entering the paperwork into HOLMES, but they prioritised the key documents. Kent looked apologetic. Im still tracking down everything as its been filed a bit sloppily. I guess once theyd secured his conviction they expected him to die in prison and so they didnt bust a gut scanning everything in. These are the records for Vinny Delmarno. Ill get the rest to you when Ive collected it all together.
Well Im sure that if its in there youll find it, Pete. Thanks.
The documents had been divided into two piles and joined together with oversize paperclips. The first was the record for Vincent (Vinny) Delmarno. Warren recognised the formatting from the Police National Computer. The second was other associated paperwork, such as reports from the National Probation Service.
Like all prisoners released from a life sentence, Delmarno had to serve out the rest of his sentence on licence. According to the NPS, he lived with his wife on the easternmost fringes of Middlesbury, reporting to his probation officer fortnightly. The latest account was dated the beginning of the month and reported that he was meeting the terms of his parole satisfactorily.
A biography of Delmarno had attached photographs showing him after his arrest and more recently on release. Warren stared at them. Was this the man who had killed his father? He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Over two decades in prison had changed the man almost beyond recognition.
According to his date of birth, Delmarno had been just shy of thirty-five years old when hed been convicted, a little younger than Warren was now, but his hair was already snow white. His face was swollen and darkened, a symptom of his end-stage-renal failure.
By contrast, the photograph taken upon release showed a fit-looking man in his late fifties. Although lined and hardened, the face had lost its swelling and the skin tone had returned to the natural, olive complexion that spoke of his Italian heritage. His hair, though white, was as full as the day he went in.
The one feature that had not changed was his eyes. Warren had seen thousands of mugshots over the years, but rarely had he seen such hatred staring out of a photograph at him.
The biographical details were terse and factual, but Warren found himself filling in the missing details with his own knowledge both from his upbringing in Coventry and the time he served with the police.
Delmarno had been born in July 1953, the son of an Italian father and an Irish Catholic mother whod met in Coventry shortly after the war. Both parents died whilst he was in prison. Schooled at one of the citys three Roman Catholic secondary schoolsnot the one hed been to, Warren was strangely relieved to see, even though they would have attended twenty years aparthed been expelled at age fifteen for fighting. After a few minor skirmishes with the law as a youth, he apparently avoided arrest until 1988.