25.
Ray turned up late the next morning. Not just five minutes late. Not even fifteen. Nearly an hour after he would usually be in, he finally sauntered into the briefing room and slumped down in the chair opposite Joseph. He looked disinterested at best. Angry to be there at worst.
“Tea?” Joseph asked meekly. He got a grunt in reply, which he took as a yes, so scurried off to the safety of the kitchen to make them both a brew.
Setting the mug down in front of Ray he scanned his partner’s face for signs that his mood might be mellowing. Ray muttered a thanks, took the mug and slurped a big gulp of tea. If Joseph had wanted a sign, that wasn’t it. When it became clear that Ray wasn’t going to say anything, he began to look back through his notes, typing up anything pertinent. Dziko’s new perspective meant he wanted to go over anything and everything once more in case his new focus helped something stand out. Ray drained his cup without uttering a word, then stood up and walked out of the room.
He returned five minutes later with another round of tea, even though Joseph hadn’t finished his.
“Right then,” he said sitting down and taking a small sip. “Where do we begin?”
They quickly agreed that, to save themselves from letting frustration get the better of them, they would shift their focus away from Tommy Jay completely. If something came up during their investigation that sent them back in his direction, then they would of course follow it. But for now, they had to accept their orders and be obedient officers.
“Any thoughts then?” Ray asked once they had agreed on the foundations of what they would do next.
“I think we should take another look at the people close to him.” Joseph felt Dziko urging him on from the back of his mind.
“For a suspect?”
“Maybe, but more to understand Gerald Trainer. I don’t think we’ve necessarily got a motive nailed down yet. Why would someone want to kill him? There’re a lot of options. Money, infidelity.”
“His arrogance,” Ray added.
“Yes, all of those,” Joseph said, before remembering once more what Dziko had said. To serve and to protect. “But also, not just the negative side of him.”
“How do you mean? I don’t know many people who get murdered for positive reasons.”
“Well, not when you think about the crime, but what if he did something good that someone bad didn’t like. For example, the money thing. We’re assuming it’s to do with him being involved in people stealing from the docks. But what if he stopped someone stealing?” Ray nodded. Joseph carried on. “Or his infidelity. What if he offered to provide for the baby that Janet’s carrying and Alfie took offence with that? It could even be something else that we’ve not thought of yet.”
“Garry Wise told us that Gerald Trainer had taken a role above him. I got the feeling that he’d got the promotion quite quickly. So maybe jealousy at his rising up the ranks,” Ray joined in now.
“It’s absolutely possible that Garry or someone else in the team didn’t like being told what to do by someone new.” Joseph lifted himself out of his seat as he spoke, energised.
“And we’ve been told that Gerald was cocksure and arrogant. Could easily have been that he rattled a few feathers. Especially as, if we’re being blunt, he’s not the colour that most people are going to be wanting to take their orders from.”
Joseph bristled as he heard this. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like Ray had said it himself or suggested he agreed with it in the slightest, but he couldn’t help himself. Just being reminded that people would have an issue with Gerald simply for the colour of his skin, and therefore by default would have an issue with Dziko, made him mad.
“We also need to know where the money came from.”
“What if he had it already?”
“How do you mean?”
“What if he was well off when he came here? We’re assuming that he came for a better life, but we know he was organised and capable. Who was he before he got here?”
“I’ll get Karen to chase that up.” Ray nodded. “Thinking outside the box there, young man. Never crossed my mind. I like it. So, race, fidelity, promotion, money. These are all the things we need to think about.”
Joseph beamed with pride at the accolade. “I’ve already started going back over my old notes to see if anything like that fits in with what we’ve been told.”
“I’ll do the same with mine,” Ray said. Something in his sudden deference to Joseph made him feel a couple of inches taller. Even if he was still sitting down.
*
They spent a good hour going through everything, looking for something they missed. Notes were made. Ideas considered. In the end, they came up with a list of people that they needed to speak to again.
“First up,” Ray said, writing on a blackboard as he spoke, “Alfie Scott. This guy has a very clear reason to want to kill our victim. We’ve spoken with him, or at least you have, and whilst his wife is certain he’s not the man who did it, there’s nothing to say we have to be that certain.”
Joseph had to agree. It had been naïve of him to just accept Janet’s reasoning. She could easily have been coerced into saying what she had said to him, and the certainty she conveyed at the time could easily have been fear masquerading.
WPC Small had provided a copy of everything she’d been able to find out about Alfie Scott, including his place of work, and Ray thumbed through it as he spoke.
“Now here’s a thing,” he said, pausing on a page. “Our Mr Scott works at the cabling factory.”
“The one on Bowater Road?” Surely that couldn’t be just a coincidence. Alfie Scott being next door to the man sleeping with his wife, day in, day out. That would surely be eating away inside him.
“The very same. I reckon we should head over and check in on Mr Scott. I’d love to have a little chat with him. Let’s go there now.”
*
The cabling factory was a large Victorian building that had been modified over the years to fit the changing nature of the business. The company behind it were owned by a German family and so it had passed into the hands of the UK government during the two world wars, first to the Public Trustee, under the Trading with the Enemy Act in 1914, and then to the Custodian of Enemy Property during World War II. It had changed hands a couple of times since the end of the war and was currently in the hands of a British holding company that specialised in electrical engineering.
They set themselves up in a small office overlooking the factory floor whilst the foreman located Alfie. They saw him slowly sauntering towards them, a smirk on his face as he removed his work gloves, opened the door and sat down without waiting for an invite.
“Didn’t think you’d have the plums to see me again,” he said to Joseph as he took his seat. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
“We want to talk to you about your whereabouts on November 9th.” Joseph ignored the barb.
“November 9th,” Alfie parroted. “That was the Tuesday. Oh yeah, yeah, no I got picked up by a mate, didn’t I? High-tailed it out to Paddington to catch the 5:55 to Cardiff.”
