‘So Howard Urwin could have got the gun from Matthews two years ago?’ Janine weighed this up. ‘He hangs onto it then suddenly wants vengeance and hey presto he is armed and dangerous and ready to go?’ She shook her head, it was iffy.
‘Matthews could have stashed it before his arrest,’ Shap said. He’s released and then Uncle Howard asks him for a favour when Doc Halliwell gets off scot free.’
‘Urwin asks Matthews to do the deed?’ Richard said.
‘Or lend him the gun,’ Shap said.
‘Matthews keeps insisting he’s gone straight,’ Lisa said.
‘Well, he would,’ Shap said, ‘It could have been Adele Young out for blood – on the house to house reports she was seen in the area on Tuesday.’
‘She lives in the area,’ Butchers said.
‘Here,’ Shap found the reference, ‘seen out in the vicinity, just before half-six.’
Janine felt her pulse quicken. ‘Close to the time of the attack. That gives us motive, means and opportunity.’ She went up to the boards, drew a line to connect one side, one line of inquiry, to the other.
‘We thought it was either a gang crime or something linked to the practice,’ Janine said, ‘maybe it’s a bit of both: the motive’s a vengeful patient or their relative – Adele Young or Howard Urwin – but the gang link, in the shape of Matthews, supplies the weapon.’
‘It’s personal not business,’ Richard said.
‘Shall we bring her in, boss?’ Butchers offered.
‘I’ll go and talk to her first,’ Janine said, ‘I still think this runs counter to her crusade for legal redress.’
‘Urwin might favour different tactics,’ Shap said.
‘Yes. Someone for Howard Urwin?’ Janine said. Butchers got to his feet. ‘Not you, Butchers. You’re still on the files. Shap?’
Shap nodded.
Butchers sat down heavily, Janine knew he was missing the action, probably feeling sidelined, shunted off combing through the paperwork at the surgery but Janine knew that methodical work was often critical – and Butchers was good at it.
‘Urwin works for a floor cleaning company, they operate out of the Portwood industrial estate,’ Lisa said.
‘Nice work, Lisa,’ Janine said.
‘What’s with the long face?’ Shap said to Butchers as he made to leave. ‘You love it there. You’re like a wasp in jam. Got your feet under the desk, surrounded by women.’
‘Piss off,’ Butchers said.
‘It’s that Vicky Stonnall, she’s the one, isn’t she?’ Shap said. ‘Bet you’re dying for her to take your temperature.’
Janine turned away stifling a laugh as Butchers’ face flooded with red.
Chapter 27
Janine went to see Adele Young on her own, preferring a softly-softly approach. The woman had lost her only child and the man she held accountable for the death of her daughter had been cleared of any wrongdoing. She must be hurt, angry. But angry enough to turn to violence?
The surgery straddled two communities. On the leafier side was a haven for professionals and also bohemian types. You’d have to be a professional, have a well-paid job to afford a mortgage in those parts. Across the far side of the main road, was a council estate, most of it still rented out as social housing.
Adele Young’s house, on the estate, looked well-kept but spartan from the outside, no hanging baskets or garden tubs as there were in the adjoining property. No time for any of that, Janine imagined, all Adele Young’s energy swallowed up by the campaign for justice for Marcie.
Adele answered the door and Janine showed her ID. ‘I’m DCI Lewis, Greater Manchester Police, can I come in?’
‘What for?’ Adele said. Her black hair was cut short, there were dark shadows under her eyes and her lips were chapped, peeling.
‘I’m leading the investigation into the murder of Dr Halliwell,’ Janine said.
‘And?’ Adele’s arms were crossed, the hostility clear on her face.
‘And I would like to ask you a few questions.’
‘We’ve already had your lot knocking on the door,’ Adele Young said. ‘I told them I hadn’t seen anything.’
‘I would still like to talk to you.’ Janine held her gaze and eventually Adele Young turned and walked inside leaving Janine to follow.
In the living room, a coffee table was covered with papers, cuttings and files, material for Adele’s campaign. There were photos of Marcie all around the room; as a toddler with an enormous stuffed rabbit, a schoolgirl with her hair in corn-rows, a teenager dressed up for a big event. Janine thought fleetingly of Eleanor, tried to imagine her getting addicted to drugs, overdosing.
‘I was sorry to hear about your daughter. You thought Dr Halliwell was wrong, the way he dealt with her. There was an incident when you challenged him about that?’
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ she said.
‘You were abusive?’ Janine said.
The woman’s lips tightened. ‘I was at my wit’s end. Close to locking her up to stop her going off and getting what she needed and he wouldn’t listen. All he could do was pontificate about his own bloody opinion. I’m watching her fall apart because he’s cut the dose so much, and he didn’t get it. You bet I lost it,’ her voice shook. ‘I could see what was going to happen…I knew… and I couldn’t save her.’ Tears sprang into her eyes. ‘God, I miss her. You do your best to try and keep them safe…’ her voice trailed off. She rubbed at her upper arms as if she was trying to warm herself.
‘And then the inquest, too, that must have been hard,’ Janine said.
‘You’ve no idea,’ Adele said simply.
‘I am sorry,’ Janine said. ‘Adele, I need to ask you where you were on Tuesday evening, between six and seven?’
Adele stared at her, eyes shrewd, mouth twisting. ‘Piss off,’ she said.
‘I need you to answer the question,’ Janine said.
Adele Young gave a shake of her head.
‘Adele, I’m sorry, I need to rule you out of our inquiries and I can’t do that if you won’t cooperate.’
‘Here,’ Adele said.
‘Alone?’
‘With Howard.’
‘All of the time?’ Janine said.
‘Yes.’
‘The thing is, someone saw you on Tuesday, on the high street. Just before half-past six.’
‘I’ve had enough of this. Do you think gunning someone down is the sort of justice I want for my daughter? Get out.’ She stood up, flung her arm towards the door.
‘Where were you going, Adele?’
‘Get out. I’m not having you accuse me of stuff. Don’t you think-’ The woman stopped, trembling, close to breaking down. ‘Just get out. Or arrest me if you think I shot him.’
Chapter 28
Shap approached the empty showroom and could see Howard Urwin inside cleaning the tiles with one of those large round polishing machines. He was a big bloke, looked like he worked out. Shap hated that whole scene; preferred his criminals underfed and feeble, physically incompetent, ideally with rickets too. But this vogue for body-building had everyone pumping iron and bulking up like they were all Rambos in the making.
Shap went in, he knew Urwin had seen him but the man still took his own sweet time turning the machine off.
‘Howard Urwin?’ Shap said. The man gave a nod, wary. Shap pointed to the floor, ‘You missed a bit there.’
Urwin was not amused. Shap showed his ID. ‘DS Shap. Your nephew Aaron Matthews, you done any business with him recently? He lend you anything?’
Howard Urwin gave a snort and switched his machine back on. Prat.
Shap walked over and flipped the switch at the socket. The machine whined to a halt.
‘You weren’t very happy with the inquest verdict, were you? Saw you mouthing off on the telly. Quite a temper you’ve got there,’ Shap said.
‘What do you want?’ Urwin said.
‘Where were you on Tuesday, between the hours of six and seven pm?’