“But how is the hangar connected with the theft of Beddoes’s tractor?” Gervaise asked.
“We don’t know that it is. Not for certain. Whatever happened there might not be connected with Morgan Spencer or Michael Lane or the tractor theft at all. I mean, why kill someone over a stolen tractor? The owner, John Beddoes, didn’t get back from Mexico until late Sunday night, so he’s in the clear. He also doesn’t need the insurance money. It’s possible that Spencer intended to meet Lane somewhere else entirely to do an honest job, then he got snatched and taken to the hangar, but none of that explains Lane’s disappearance. If he couldn’t find Spencer at the intended job site, why didn’t he just go home?”
“I still don’t like it,” Gervaise said, casting her eyes around the room. “Too much speculation. What about physical evidence?”
“Stefan found some traces of red diesel in the hangar,” said Banks. “It could have come from the tractor or some other farm vehicle permitted to use the stuff. But there was nothing else to indicate that the tractor had been there. He also found traces of other vehicles having been there, but it’s impossible to say when. We just don’t know.”
“Anything from the train companies or the news item we ran?” Gervaise asked Doug Wilson.
“No, ma’am. They said they’d check the online purchase records and put a few flyers on the route, but it’ll take time.”
“Rather like train journeys themselves,” muttered Banks.
“Is there anything else to connect the hangar with the stolen tractor?” Gervaise asked him.
“I think Winsome and Gerry might have something to report on that.”
Winsome cleared her throat and spoke without referring to her notes. “The landlord of the George and Dragon in Hallerby saw a racing green removal van large enough to carry a tractor come down the lane that leads from the airfield at just after ten o’clock on Sunday morning,” she said. “Headed in the direction of the A1. He got a brief look at the driver and said he was wearing a flat cap and had muttonchop sideburns. The lorry had no markings. He didn’t see the number plate.”
“What sort of car does Michael Lane drive, again?” Banks asked Annie.
“A clapped-out gray Peugeot.”
“Has it been seen?”
“Not since he went out on Sunday morning. And nothing from the airlines or credit card company. He’s off our radar.”
Banks thought he might need another chat with Joanna MacDonald. She was his key to the magic world of ANPR. Cars could be tracked anywhere in the country. “And do we know what Morgan Spencer drives?” he asked the room at large.
“A motorcycle,” said Doug Wilson. “According to his neighbor, he’s got a Yamaha. He usually keeps it parked beside his caravan, but it wasn’t there when DI Cabbot and I visited yesterday, and we don’t know where it is now.”
“Maybe he rode it to his lorry and put it in the back?” said Banks. “It wasn’t outside his caravan after the fire, either, perhaps because he was already dead. Which reminds me,” he said, glancing at Annie. “Could you have a word with someone at Vaughn’s ABP, where Caleb Ross worked? They must have a schedule of pickups or some such thing. There has to be some way of finding out how and where his body parts got mixed up with the fallen stock.”
Annie jotted on her pad. “And where it got chopped up like that,” she added.
“Let’s see what Dr. Glendenning has to say about that at the p.m.”
“Do you think Caleb Ross had anything to do with it all?” asked Gervaise.
“It’s a definite possibility,” said Banks. “The accident may have been beyond Ross’s control, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t know that he was carrying Morgan Spencer’s body. Or at least something not quite kosher. We’ll be looking for a link.”
“If it was an accident,” Annie Cabbot said.
“You think the van might have been sabotaged?” said Gervaise.
“I’m just saying it’s a possibility, ma’am. Maybe the crash site investigators will be able to tell us what happened.”
“Maybe,” said Banks. “But they don’t have an awful lot left to go on. If someone did sabotage the van, there may well be no evidence of that left.”
“Morgan Spencer had an oversize lockup on the Bewlay Industrial Estate,” said Gerry Masterson. “Apparently his van is sometimes filled with the contents of someone’s house overnight, and he’s required for insurance purposes to keep it somewhere safe, not just on the street, so the estate rents him the garage. It’s empty at the moment. We’re waiting for some free CSIs to send over there, but . . .”
“I know,” said Banks. “They’re all busy at Belderfell Pass, or the hangar.”
“Yes, sir. DS Nowak says he hopes he can get some experts over there by the morning. Until then, we’ve put a guard on the place.”
“We’ll put out a bulletin on the van and motorcycle.” Banks glanced at Winsome. “And the gray Peugeot. The landlord of the George and Dragon only reported one lorry coming out of the woods that Sunday morning, didn’t he?”
“Yes, sir. One racing green lorry.”
“Nothing going in?”
“He didn’t see anything. But if they were using the route for criminal activities, it would make sense to vary it sometimes.”
“I suppose it could have been Spencer’s lorry the landlord saw,” said Banks. “Gerry, do you think you could attempt to tie reported rural thefts in the region to traffic observed at the hangar or passing through Hallerby from Kirkway Lane?”
“We’d need a lot more data to go on, sir,” said Gerry. “I mean, it’s easy to collate the incidents of thefts from our crime figures, but that’s no use unless we have definite recollections from people who lived in Hallerby. Who’s going to remember when a lorry came down the lane?”
“The pub landlord might if you push him a bit,” Winsome said.
“If he does, see if you can make any connections,” said Banks.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know who owns the airfield property yet?”
“Venture Property Developments, sir,” said Gerry. “I spoke briefly to one of their executives on the phone. I must say I couldn’t get much out of him. He seemed rather abrupt. They’re based in Leeds. Apparently they’re still involved in legal arguments over zoning it for commercial use—a shopping center. There’s some local opposition from the villagers in Drewick and Hallerby. They say it’ll ruin their peaceful natural environment.”
“Indeed it will,” said Banks. “Unless they can find some particularly rare species of bird or a few bedraggled badgers to get it a protection order.”
“The company doesn’t expect it to drag on for too long,” Gerry went on. “In the meantime, they haven’t been paying much attention to it. Other fish to fry. I asked them if it was locked up securely, and they said it had to be to comply with Health and Safety. But nobody from Venture has actually been there in ages, so they have no idea whether anyone has been using it for their own purposes.”
“According to Terry Gilchrist, the kids get in anyway,” said Winsome. “He says while walking his dog he’s seen them playing football and cricket inside the grounds there.”
Banks remembered his childhood, when he used to love playing in condemned houses. Did Health and Safety exist then? He didn’t remember ever hearing about them. If they had, he thought, there would probably have been no bonfire night and the old houses would have been more secure. But children are resilient and malleable. They can survive the occasional fall through the staircase of a condemned slum. “Talk to Terry Gilchrist again, Winsome. He’s the one who lives the closest. See if he knows anything else about the place. Anything. It might be worth finding out who some of these kids are, too, if he knows. They might be able to tell us more. Kids can be surprisingly observant. And find out what kind of car Gilchrist drives, just in case it comes up.”