‘Drive,’ he ordered.
Fox did as he was told. When they’d left the police station behind, Robinson relaxed a little. He was wearing a force-issue outerwear jacket over his uniform – not quite mufti, but as close as he could get.
‘Thanks for this,’ Fox acknowledged. Robinson shrugged off the show of gratitude.
‘I’m not going to shit on my own kind,’ he warned.
‘I’m not asking you to. I’m just trying to find out a bit more about Gavin Willis. In police terms, Sergeant, you’re as close to Methuselah as I’m going to get.’
Robinson looked at him. ‘Not exactly buttering me up, are you?’
‘Would you appreciate it if I did?’ Fox watched as Robinson shook his head. ‘What rank did you have, back in the mid-eighties?’
Robinson thought for a second. ‘Constable,’ he answered.
‘So you wouldn’t have had many dealings with CID?’
‘Not many.’
‘Probably didn’t know Willis and Alan Carter too well?’
‘There were times we worked together – door-to-door enquiries; scouring the area for a missing person…’
‘And nights in the pub, eh?’
‘Not just nights – not back then.’
Fox nodded his agreement. ‘Lunchtime sessions? They were being phased out by the time I signed on the line.’
Robinson was looking at him. ‘How long have you been in the Complaints?’
‘A few years.’
‘You like it?’
‘Maybe I want to make sure the force is on the side of the angels.’
‘That’s the answer you always give?’
Fox smiled. ‘I change the wording a bit.’
‘But is it the whole truth?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Fox paused, checking to left and right as they stopped at a junction. ‘I’m also not convinced Paul Carter killed his uncle.’
‘Then who did?’
‘That’s what I’d like to know. Got any ideas yourself?’
‘How does Gavin Willis fit into it?’
‘Willis and Alan were pals as well as colleagues. Alan obviously doted on the man – to the extent of buying his house when he died.’ Fox glanced at Robinson. ‘We found Francis Vernal’s car tucked away in a garage next to the cottage.’
‘Oh, aye?’
‘Have you any notion why Willis would have hung on to it, let everyone think it had been scrapped?’
Robinson shook his head.
‘Or why Alan Carter would have left it there?’
Another shake of the head.
‘It’s a mystery, then,’ Fox seemed to concede. ‘But here’s something else – the gun used to kill Alan Carter was part of a police haul that should have been destroyed back in the eighties, when Gavin Willis was on the detail.’
‘Oh, aye?’ Robinson repeated.
‘You knew both men – and you know Alan’s nephew. There’s something I’m not seeing here, and I was hoping you could help.’
‘Gavin Willis was a tough customer,’ Robinson admitted.
‘That much I sense.’
‘A rule-breaker too, from time to time.’
‘But back then that was the norm, more or less.’
‘I suppose it was. People were scared of Gavin Willis – but only if they deserved to be. If you kept your nose clean, there was no reason for him to be interested in you.’
‘He was Alan Carter’s mentor – you think some of that rubbed off?’
‘Alan was a different generation. He wasn’t just some sort of replica.’
‘But there were similarities?’ Fox thought for a moment. ‘So maybe he made enemies?’
‘In the force and out of it.’
‘You mean his security firm?’
‘There was a bit of trouble with the Shafiqs last year.’
‘Scholes seems keen on reminding everyone about that. I also know Alan Carter hired people for their brawn rather than their brain.’
‘If a fight breaks out in a club, college degrees aren’t the first thing you reach for. Alan Carter knew that. He joined the force straight from school, same as me. We learned on the job, Inspector, not from textbooks.’
‘Did Willis ever get into any trouble? Disciplinary hearings, that sort of thing?’
Robinson shook his head
‘What about Alan Carter?’
‘Nothing. Paul, on the other hand…’
‘A loose cannon from a family of cops – therefore protected.’
‘Ray Scholes kept him in the right – out of respect for his dad and uncle.’ Robinson had shifted a little in his seat, the better to face Malcolm Fox. ‘You really think Paul didn’t do it?’
‘I’m fighting the tide on that one.’
‘And your theory is that it all somehow ties to Gavin Willis?’
‘Maybe – if Gavin Willis saved that revolver from the furnace.’
‘And Francis Vernal…?’
‘I don’t know what happened there – either lazy policing or pressure from upstairs. But the case should have been investigated and wasn’t.’
‘I doubt Gavin Willis would have reacted well if someone had told him to drop it.’
‘Maybe that’s why he hung on to the car – evidence on its way to being destroyed.’
‘But then he didn’t do anything with it.’
‘And neither did Alan Carter – but Alan kept it there under the tarpaulin anyway.’
‘Nineteen eighty-five, Inspector – long time back. You really think you’re going to make progress now?’
‘Would anyone care if I didn’t?’
Robinson shook his head again. ‘But they might if you did.’ He peered through the windscreen. ‘You can drop me here, I’ll walk the rest.’
‘You sure?’
‘Better that than the pair of us being seen together.’
Fox signalled and drew to a stop by the side of the road. Robinson undid his seat belt and got out. Fox thought he might have some parting words – a helpful sentence or two – but he just closed the door and marched away, zipping up his jacket. Fox drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.
You’re nowhere, he told himself. When his phone rang, he answered it with a half-hearted ‘Yes?’
‘Sounds like you’ve already heard,’ Evelyn Mills said.
‘Heard what?’
‘My boss has ordered us to pull the surveillance. I tried fighting your corner, but with Paul Carter looking like a murder suspect…’
‘Surveillance could jeopardise any trial,’ Fox said, finishing the argument for her.
‘Sorry, Malcolm.’
‘To be honest, my own boss would have pulled it anyway.’
‘You eventually owned up?’
‘Someone let it slip.’
‘Pissing him off in the process. Well, we gave it our best shot.’
‘And I’m grateful.’
‘Then you can buy me dinner some time.’ She waited, but Fox stayed silent. ‘To be honest, Malcolm, the tap was getting us nowhere anyway.’
‘Just that one call?’
‘A second one this morning – arranging a drink together tonight.’
‘Carter and Scholes?’
‘And the other two.’
‘Haldane and Michaelson?’
‘Yes.’
‘Whose idea was that?’
‘Paul Carter’s. I think he wants reassurance that he still has a few pals. Sounded to me like the pressure’s getting to him.’
‘What did Scholes say?’
‘He sounded pretty reluctant, but Carter kept on at him.’ She paused. ‘Is it important?’
‘First time the four of them will have been together since the trial.’
‘That we know of.’
‘That we know of,’ he agreed.
‘You wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall?’
‘Are you saying you’d steer clear?’
She gave a little laugh. ‘Would it really matter what I said?’
‘Where are they meeting?’
‘The Wheatsheaf, at eight o’clock. Mind you don’t bump into anyone from the Murder Squad.’
‘Thanks, Evelyn.’
‘I tried calling you last night, Malcolm…’
‘I must’ve been asleep.’
‘Not giving me the brush-off, then?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
He assured her he was, then ended the call, punched in Tony Kaye’s number and waited. When Kaye picked up, Fox asked him if he was in the middle of something.