A Private and Convenient Place Read online

  Hood was almost resigned to the fact that he would have to rely solely on the evidence of Duffy when there were two unexpected breakthroughs. First, Detective Constable Raymond Craddock discovered a clip of CCTV from a camera in Hastings town centre that clearly showed Joseph Hanlon coming out of the railway station the day before the meeting between Julia Hamilton and Gus Grayling. He had travelled from Ireland on a false passport - that had already been established long ago – and the quality of the CCTV was excellent. There was no doubt as to his identification. But despite many hours of scrutiny, there was no sign of Julia Hamilton on any of the tapes examined by Craddock. While this sighting implied Duffy was probably telling the truth when he said that Hanlon was in the house when the meeting occurred, it shed no light on how Julia Hamilton had arrived there. If only Hanlon could be persuaded to co-operate! Secondly, and of greater significance Hood had received information from the Metropolitan police that the late Gus Grayling’s telephone had been subject to continuous monitoring for several months over the spring and early summer of 1999. It was Detective Sergeant Andrew Hooper who had come up with this little gem. He had been on a course with some Metropolitan officers in November. In the bar, after the day’s proceedings were over and the delegates were relaxing in the usual fashion, one of the team that had been bugging Grayling’s telephone volunteered that the master criminal had been under investigation in respect of an anticipated major drugs importation from Holland. Mention of Grayling’s name had alerted Hooper so he put his hand in his pocket and bought the Metropolitan officer several more drinks. His tongue loosened by Hooper’s uncharacteristic generosity, the officer became increasingly indiscreet and revealed that a warrant had been obtained to tap Grayling’s home telephone and the phones of several of his accomplices. No-one had been arrested and the demise of Grayling had caused the other suspects to scatter before the drugs were despatched from Amsterdam. The budget cuts imposed on the Met meant resources had to be placed elsewhere, so after a couple of months the investigation was closed down.

  Hood, with the support of Assistant Chief Constable Knowles, had contacted the commander in charge and, after a delay, had been trusted with a recording of a single short call made to Grayling’s home on the 12 March 1999. He and Hooper were about to listen to it when Detective Sergeant Wendy Knight rushed into the room. She had been tasked with identifying the telephone from which the call had been made but was forced to defer disclosing the result of her investigations as Hood switched on the tape player, held up his hand and directed her to take a seat. All three sat and listened intently.

  Initially there was considerable distortion before an obviously female voice could be heard.

  ‘Is that Gus Grayling?’

  ‘Who wants to know?’

  That was undoubtedly Grayling’s voice. Hood would have recognised that rasping whisper anywhere. He had previously listened to the tapes of Grayling’s cautioned interview in a mortgage fraud investigation some years before. It was Grayling alright. His breathing was more laboured, but it was definitely him. The caller, however, declined to identify herself and was, in Hood’s opinion, making an effort to disguise her voice. It sounded muffled, as if she were holding something in front of her mouth as she spoke.

  ‘Derick Duffy suggested I should ring you.’

  ‘Did he? So you know Derick do you?’

  ‘No. But I know someone who does?’

  There was a distinct pause and further distortion before Hood caught only part of the rest of the conversation.

  ‘… here in Hastings, next Tuesday. You have my address?’

  ‘Yes. Tuesday it is. I should be there by two.’

  The caller rang off. Hood smiled and acknowledged Wendy Knight.

  ‘The following Tuesday would have been what date?’ he asked.

  ‘The sixteenth of March. The day Duffy says the meet took place!’

  Hood nodded. ‘So, I suppose all we need to do now is prove the caller was Julia Hamilton. I must say, I couldn’t swear that was her voice.’

  ‘She was obviously trying to disguise it,’ said Hooper, cynically.

  ‘But she can’t have known the line was being bugged, can she?’

  Hooper shook his head.

  ‘She’d try and disguise her voice as a matter of course. She’s as devious as they come is that one.’

  Hood could see that Knight was desperate to speak.

  ‘What have you discovered Wendy?’

  ‘The call was made from a phone box…’

  ‘So anyone could have made it,’ interrupted Hooper.

  ‘We can narrow it down though,’ replied Knight, ‘to a particular phone.’

  ‘Go on, Wendy,’ said Hood. His look silenced Hooper.

  ‘It was made from a call box in the village of Thrussington.’

  ‘Thrussington? Where’s that?’

  ‘In north Leicestershire, just off the A46.

  ‘You reckon she turned off the A46 to find a phone box in order to make the call?’

  ‘Well, we already know that she and Doyle have a phobia about using mobiles, don’t we? She probably thought it was safer to use a call box.’

  ‘But why Thrussington?’

  ‘She’d been in Nottingham that morning and the A46 is the obvious route back to Leicester.’

  ‘Can we prove she’d been in Nottingham that morning?’ asked Hood.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ replied Knight. ‘We most certainly can - from her work records we examined in detail last year. She was sitting behind counsel in a case that morning. One of Trevor Parker’s – it was just a sentence. She was finished by twelve.’

  ‘Can we at least place her in the village?’

  ‘I think we can do better than that. The call was made from the telephone box next to the village green. It’s the only one in the village.’

  ‘Is that significant?’

  ‘It is, sir, if you bear in mind that on the other side of the green is a hairdresser’s. Julia Hamilton has been a customer there for at least three years. And on the twelfth of March she had an appointment at two pm, just seconds after the call to Grayling finished. It just has to have been her.’

  Hood seemed doubtful.

  ‘You’re sure of this? Why would Julia Hamilton patronise a hairdressing salon so far from where she lives? Wasn’t she still at Harbour Buildings in Leicester in March or at her mother’s flat in Halford Street?’

  ‘It’s a popular salon and it’s been there for a while. And, wait for it. Her mother used to live in the village before she moved to Portugal and she still owns a property there. I had a hunch that there might be a family connection in the village, so I did a check with the Land Registry. Sycamore Cottage, Rearsby Road – that’s the house. She still visits from time to time, according to one of the other customers at the salon who knew her from years ago. And there’s no land line at the cottage. It’s over two years since BT disconnected it.’

  Hood beamed. ‘And it was definitely Julia Hamilton who had the appointment?’

  ‘Absolutely. I’ve taken statements from the owner and the stylist who did her hair for her. They both recognised her immediately from the photograph I showed them.’

  Hooper, too, was delighted.

  ‘That’s enough to corroborate what Duffy says, surely?’

  Hood was a little more restrained.

  ‘Didn’t she usually travel to Nottingham by train?’

  Hooper stood up.

  ‘That’s a point. As far as we know she doesn’t drive, does she? And we ran a check on her a few months ago. She doesn’t own a car.’

  ‘But she does have a driving licence,’ said Knight. ‘She’s held a licence for three years – but I haven’t located a vehicle that can be connected to her.’

  ‘Perhaps someone gave her a lift?’

  ‘Or she had a pre-booked t
axi. What did they say at the salon, Wendy?’

  Knight took out her note book and flipped over a few pages.

  ‘She was on her own and she didn’t call for a taxi. She had on previous occasions, but not this time. Nobody noticed her drive away. They were very busy that afternoon.’

  ‘So, she’d either acquired a motor or someone drove her.’ said Hooper. ‘I’ll look into that. It would be very handy if we could prove she’d hired a car.’

  ‘Even better if someone did drive her there,’ added Knight. ‘We should check all the taxi companies too. Another witness would very useful.’

  ‘I’ll leave that with the two of you,’ said Hood. ‘Remember, she had to get to Hastings to see Grayling - and it’s quite a way from here. I doubt if she went there by public transport. If someone did pick her up from the salon, chances are they also drove her to Hastings the following week. She wouldn’t want too many people being aware of her movements. We need to check in the village. Someone might have seen her getting into a car. Is there a pub?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Two in fact.’

  ‘Well that’s where we should start. Hopefully, someone will have noticed her. She’d certainly have stood out, especially if she’d just had her hair done. Get her photograph circulated too – and check out the property her mother owns. That’s the first I’ve heard of it. She could have gone there after visiting the salon. Have a word with the neighbours. They usually know what’s going on in a village like this. And check on her mother’s whereabouts that week-end. Was she in Portugal or here in the UK? I need to know.’

  Hooper indicated he would see to it.

  ‘We’ll have to double check Hamilton’s whereabouts on the sixteenth of March as well. We have a fairly detailed account of her movements from her work records. And she definitely wasn’t in court on that date or having a meeting with a client in prison. So she won’t be able to use her paralegal work as an alibi. In fact, I think she finished working that very week-end.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Hood. ‘But we mustn’t get too carried away. There’s another potential problem that we need to give some thought to. Duffy’s daughter, Kelly Maguire, was casing the judge’s house before the twelfth of March. She admitted going there for that purpose on the twenty-fourth of February. So put your thinking caps on, will you? If this is Hamilton on the tape, it sounds like she hadn’t spoken with Grayling before she made this call. So why was Kelly Maguire casing the judge’s house three weeks before?

  Neither detective sergeant replied.

  ‘And there’s something else. We’ll have to check with the CPS as to the admissibility of this intercept. I seem to remember there are some legal restrictions on the use of such material. And I don’t suppose the Met will be too happy about our relying on it. I’ll get in touch and see what the lawyers say. But if we can use it…?’ He paused and smiled broadly. ‘And even if we can’t, if we can find whoever gave her a lift and link her in that way to the meet in Hastings that will provide a bit of support for what Duffy says.’

  He turned to Knight.

  ‘Well done, Wendy. This is exactly what we’ve been looking for.’

  ‘Thanks, sir. But it was Andrew here who found out about the existence of the recording.’

  Hood nodded, glancing at Hooper.

  ‘Well, I suppose his socialising at a variety of bars was bound to prove useful – eventually!’

  Andrew Hooper smiled but did not reply.

  Chapter Three

  Three days later Hood arranged to meet with Fiona Morrison, the recently appointed Chief Crown Prosecutor for the East Midlands. Her predecessor, James Frazer, had decided to take early retirement following the successful prosecution of the kidnappers of Celia Campion and her son. Departing after a major success appealed both to Frazer and to his superiors in London. No attempt had been made to persuade him to change his mind when he started to have second thoughts. He was fobbed off with an arrangement that he could do some part-time agency work in the Magistrates’ Court to enhance his pension. His successor was recognised as having done sterling work as a deputy chief in the north of England, having re-organised the region and improved the conviction rate without demanding increased resources. Her appointment to the East Midlands was greeted with almost universal acclaim.

  Morrison had never married. She was thirty-nine years of age, attractive and a keen cyclist. She had competed in a number of endurance races and was physically fit and robust. Her partner, an executive with a large company based in Sheffield, had wanted her to retire and have a child with him before it was too late but she could not contemplate a life of simple domesticity. Since qualifying as a solicitor, she had devoted herself to the CPS, and had not, so far, regretted her decision. Tempted a few years before by an offer from a London firm of solicitors specialising in fraud work, she had thought hard about it but remained loyal to the public service. This was her reward. Heading up the East Midland’s Region before she was forty was a real accomplishment. Not that she could relax. It had been made very clear to her that a conviction in the case of Julia Hamilton was regarded as essential and the DPP himself was taking a personal interest in the case along with the newly appointed Attorney-General.

  She had already studied the witness statements provided by Wendy Knight as she and Hood listened to the tape of the crucial telephone call together. Neither said a word until the recording came to an end.

  ‘It could be her, I suppose,’ said Morrison. ‘We’ll have to get it checked by an expert. We have a few samples of her voice from her cautioned interviews.’

  ‘When you put everything together, it has to be her,’ insisted Hood. ‘As I see it, it’s simply a question of admissibility. I’ve looked at the Act.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not at all sure we can get it in.’

  ‘It’s certainly not straightforward,’ agreed Morrison. ‘And there’s new legislation going through Parliament at the moment. But this case will be governed by the nineteen eighty-five Act. I’ve had a good look at it. The policy is pretty clear. This sort of material is usually not admissible. It’s to be used for intelligence purposes only.’

  Hood could not avoid showing his disappointment.

  ‘Is there no way around it?’ he asked. ‘It seems too useful to abandon it without a fight.’

  ‘And that’s not all. If we try and rely on it, it will have to be served on the defence and I don’t know what the Met will say about that. Although the investigation into Grayling and the others has been abandoned, given the nature of the inquiry, they won’t be too keen on it becoming known they were monitoring their phones. These people may well be at it again in the near future so you can understand the Met’s likely reaction. I know from other cases they’re usually loath to reveal they’ve been intercepting phone calls. You were lucky to get hold of this in the circumstances.’

  Hood was not surprised. He was well aware of the likely attitude of the Met and there was another issue that he kept to himself for the time being. The caller had as good as revealed that it was Doyle who knew Duffy. If the caller were Julia Hamilton, she couldn’t have been referring to anyone else.

  “But I know someone who does.” Those were the words used and as only Hood was aware that it was Doyle’s disclosure which had led to the identification of Duffy, there was a risk that serving a copy of the taped telephone call on the defence could reveal Doyle’s role in the matter. If Julia Hamilton didn’t know Doyle had ‘grassed up’ Duffy, she would quickly work it out as would several others when the case went to trial. Hood had long ago decided to keep Doyle’s role to himself simply to protect him. Despite his concerns he continued to press Morrison.

  ‘But this is a single call, lasting less than two minutes. It doesn’t affect the drugs operation and as Gus Grayling is dead, he won’t be involved in anything in the future.’

  ‘I appreciate that and I’ll put it to leading counsel for a final decision bu
t I think we shouldn’t assume anything for the moment.’

  Hood’s face fell.

  ‘If we can’t rely on this evidence, we’re stuck with Duffy and the CCTV that shows Hanlon was in Hastings the day before the meet with Hamilton. But that won’t get us very far unless Hanlon confirms that Hamilton was there – and he’s not going to do that.’

  ‘Have you asked him? He could get a cut in his sentence if he were to co-operate.’

  Hood smiled.

  ‘He’s doing thirty-nine years. He’ll be well over seventy before he gets out - even with parole. It would have to be a very substantial reduction to get him to play ball and, realistically, that’s just not going to happen. Ex IRA commandants don’t give evidence for the Crown. Anyway, he’s far more dangerous than Julia Hamilton. I can’t see the Home Secretary agreeing to cut his sentence by very much whatever he may be prepared to say. It would hardly be in the public interest to let someone like him out early. And when I made contact with his solicitors, just after he’d been sentenced, he refused even to see me. He simply wasn’t interested.’

  Morrison frowned.

  ‘He’s in Whitemoor, isn’t he?’

  Hood nodded.

  ‘Yes. He’s been transferred from Wakefield fairly recently. And from what I’ve heard, he’s not enjoying it one bit.’ He smiled. ‘Which is good to know!’

  ‘Well, there are other considerations apart from a cut in his sentence. And there’s been plenty of time for the hopelessness of his position to sink in, whatever he may have said just after he was sentenced. If he were to co-operate, it might be possible to move him somewhere a bit more to his liking. There are other equally secure establishments, some a lot more pleasant than Whitemoor.’