Imposition (DI Gardener 5)

“Has Fitz come back to you?” Cragg asked.

“No,” said Gardener, making a note on the chart. He was sure if Fitz had found anything important they would have known by now. Nevertheless, it had to be followed up.

“Maurice?” said Gardener. “While I’m thinking about it, what movement have we had from the tracker on his van?”

“Nothing,” replied Cragg. “He came and collected it about four o’clock, signed in then went straight home.”

“And he’s been there ever since?”

“Yes.”

“Is he still there?” Reilly asked.

Cragg nodded. “Hasn’t moved.”

“So, what was it you wanted me to do?” Sharp asked.

“You can concentrate on the man himself – Robbie Carter. I want everything you can find on him: how long he’s been here, where he was before that. Is he telling the truth about the way he earns his living? I want his bank details, his national insurance number, everything. Run him through the computer; does he have form? If he has so much as a parking ticket I want to know when and where.”

More notes went on to the whiteboard before Gardener turned. He glanced at Cragg. “Maurice, you gave us a list of names to investigate for the burglary. Has anyone spoken to any of them?”

“We did, sir,” said Sharp, pointing to Paul Benson. “Three of them anyway. We started with Alan Bond in Pickering – a real piece of shit.”

“Yes.” Benson nodded. “He was interrogating a woman when we turned up at his place: looked like he’d been at it for a while.”

“How do you mean?” Reilly asked.

“She was black and blue,” said Sharp. “Anyway, to cut a long story short, it wasn’t him that robbed the Carters. She vouched for his movements.”

“We had a good look round the place. Plenty of drugs and shit but nothing matching the description of the stolen goods.”

“Didn’t really think he’d be involved,” said Cragg.

“I don’t think Rutter was either.”

“What was his alibi?”

“A&E,” said Benson. “Seems someone had caught up with him from a previous job.”

“He won’t be very active for a while,” said Sharp. “Two broken arms and a few fractured ribs.”

“His face was a mess,” Benson added.

“How could you tell?” asked Cragg.

“The colour.”

“What about Chrissie Ward?” Cragg asked.

“You were right about her. She spoke to us from the other side of the door and she was holding a knife.”

“She wouldn’t let you in?”

“No. Said she didn’t believe us, despite the badge. Said she hadn’t done anything wrong and she wasn’t out that night. She wouldn’t let us in and we couldn’t push it without a warrant.”

“You’ll have one in the morning,” said Gardener. “Get yourselves round there mob-handed at five o’clock and flatten the place if you have to. Turn it upside down and don’t leave until you’re satisfied that she had nothing to do with it. And if you’re not sure, arrest her and bring her in. She can have half an hour with Sean. She’ll be singing a different tune when he’s finished.”

“She’ll be lucky if she can sing at all,” said Rawson.