Blood And Honey (49 page)

‘Didn’t that –’ Barber was choosing her words with care ‘– make you think at all?’

‘Of course it did. Chrissie’s never been an angel.’ She looked from one face to another. ‘But not this. Not
murder
.’

Faraday wrapped up the interview minutes later. Dave Michaels’ face had appeared twice at the square of wired glass in the door and in any case he sensed that Mrs Unwin had nothing left to say. Profoundly apprehensive, she sat at the table looking up at Faraday as Tracy Barber wound back the tapes.

‘He’s in trouble, isn’t he?’ she said finally. ‘And what have I done to help?’

Faraday offered her a lift back to the hotel but she shook her head. She wanted to stay here while they talked to Chrissie. She just hoped to God it wouldn’t go on too long.

‘It’ll be twenty-four hours at least,’ Faraday said. ‘A night’s sleep might do you good.’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Not while he might need me.’

‘He’s in a bit of a state.’ Dave Michaels had followed Faraday into his office. Faraday shut the door.

‘How do you mean?’

‘He’s in tears. He’s like a kid. Flat out on the mattress. Face to the wall.’

‘Anyone talked to him?’

‘Not so far. The brief’s due any minute. Might be tricky, eh?’

Faraday nodded. The last thing he needed was the duty solicitor claiming that Unwin was the victim of undue pressure.

‘Take his mum along,’ he said. ‘Leave them in peace for five minutes.’

‘Really?’ Michaels shot Faraday a look. Potential codefendants were rarely given the opportunity of time alone together.

‘Yes. If anyone can sort him out, she can.’ He paused. ‘Why the tears, do you think?’

‘I’m not sure. Trace thinks it’s down to his nan. They were really close. Maybe he can’t bear the thought of missing the funeral.’

Faraday nodded. Something similar had already occurred to him. He raised an eyebrow, the possibility of extra leverage unvoiced.

Michaels nodded.

‘Exactly,’ he said.

The interview started at 20.41. Faraday had spent ten minutes with the duty solicitor, who was insisting on full disclosure. Detailing the case against Unwin, Faraday was all too aware of how circumstantial it was but something told him that pressure from Unwin’s mother might prove more influential than legal advice from a total stranger.

Dave Michaels and Tracy Barber were already in the interview suite. There was a speaker feed to the adjoining room and Faraday settled down to monitor what happened next. Michaels had agreed that Barber should lead. Five minutes’ whispered conversation in the holding cell with his mum appeared to have restored a little of Unwin’s self-confidence. Now he sat beside the duty solicitor, moist-eyed, his hair a mess, picking at his bitten fingernails. At Michaels’ suggestion Tracy had brought in a box of tissues. When she offered him one, he shook his head.

‘No thanks.’

Michaels started the tape, repeated the formal caution, added the date and time and names of those present, then gestured for Barber to take over. A situation like this often played badly in court many months later. Chris Unwin was hardly a vulnerable witness but she needed to protect the
Congress
team from allegations of harassment.

‘You’re sure you’re up for this, Mr Unwin?’

‘No problem.’

Tracy glanced at the solicitor. Late middle-aged, he was carrying far too much weight. After an exhausting day at the office he plainly wanted to be anywhere but here. Tracy returned to Unwin. Gently, she told herself.

‘Rob Pelly …’ she began. ‘Tell me how you first got to know him.’

Unwin seemed surprised by the question. He thought for a moment, tipped his head back, evidently wondering where he might start.

‘Couple of years back,’ he said at last, ‘my nan went into the home over there. I was already driving by then, deliveries mainly. Some of the jobs were on the island. Whenever I could I dropped in.’

‘Why did your nan choose the island?’

‘She lived here for a bit after the war. Somewhere round Ventnor way. She loved the place. It was Granddad who brought her back.’

They’d lived for a long time in Haslemere, he said. Then Granddad had died and after a spell with Mum in London his nan had decided to go back to the island.

‘She couldn’t really look after herself and Mum was out all day. Rob’s place was on the local authority list. Kushti.’

‘So you met Pelly at the home?’

‘Yeah. He owns it. It’s his place.’

‘And you became friends?’

‘Not friends exactly.’ For the first time his voice began to falter. ‘He’s not that kind of bloke. We got on OK, though, and it was good because I was able to do him the odd favour, know what I mean?’

‘No.’ Tracy shook her head. ‘Tell me.’

The solicitor glanced sideways at his client. Unwin seemed oblivious. He’s made a decision, Barber thought. He’s going to cough the lot.

‘Well …’ Unwin tore off a splinter of nail and flicked it away. ‘Some of it was legit and some of it …’ he shrugged ‘… wasn’t.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like the blokes he brought in from abroad. There were loads of them. He was forever going over there,
Bosnia mainly. He told me all the immigration paperwork was up together and the Old Bill never bothered us so I just assumed it was OK. Talking to some of the blokes later that wasn’t quite the story but – you know – none of that was down to me.’

When Pelly asked, Unwin would ship vanloads of immigrants across to the mainland, mainly Southampton. From there he’d drive them north, to addresses in Birmingham and Manchester. Each time he did it, he got paid. Not a fortune, he admitted, but then Pelly wasn’t the kind of bloke you’d argue the toss with. Not about something as silly as money.

Next door, Faraday remembered the informant, Gary Morgan. Morgan had talked of a row between Unwin and Pelly, the spark that had put the first flames under the bonfire that had become
Congress
.

Barber obviously remembered the same conversation. Now she was asking whether such a row had ever taken place.

‘Yeah, it did. I wasn’t happy about stuff that was happening to my nan. Rob went off on one. I lost it too. Turned out I’d got it wrong, though. He was treating her OK.’

‘When did that happen?’

‘Dunno.’ Unwin frowned. ‘Last year. End of the summer, as far as I remember.’

‘OK.’ Barber nodded. ‘So tell me about Lajla. What’s the relationship between her and Pelly?’

Mention of Lajla brought Unwin to a halt. He looked from one face to the other. Michaels gestured for him to go on.

‘They’re married,’ he said at last. ‘Man and wife.’

‘Married married? Or pretend?’ It was Michaels this time.

‘Dunno what you’re talking about.’

‘Married as in kipping together, screwing, or married as in getting the paperwork straight, getting the lady a passport, putting a roof over her head – all that?’

Unwin blinked. He was out of his depth. He leant towards his solicitor, conferred in a whisper. Finally, he shook his head.

‘He says I don’t have to answer that question.’

‘But you’d know, surely?’

Another conference. Then the solicitor confirmed that his client was making no comment about this woman’s exact status.

‘How well did you know her?’

‘I knew her a bit.’

‘What’s she like?’

‘She’s nice. Younger than him. But nice enough …’ He nodded. ‘Yeah.’

Barber brought the interview back to the end of last summer. Unwin had rowed with Pelly about his nan. The argument had been resolved.

‘You were still going over there? Still dropping in?’

‘Yeah.’

‘How long did that go on for?’

Unwin stared at her. His hands disappeared into his lap. There was a long silence.

‘I …’ His mouth was dry. He licked his lips.

‘Yes?’ Barber warmed the question with a smile.

‘Nothing.’

The silence deepened. Even the solicitor was getting uneasy. At last Unwin’s head went down.

‘This isn’t fucking easy,’ he muttered. ‘The guy’s going to kill me.’

‘Who’s going to kill you, Mr Unwin?’

‘Who do you think?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe it would be easier if you told me.’

‘Easier how?’

The sudden quickening in his voice was the giveaway. He’s after a deal, thought Barber. She glanced at Michaels. He’d obviously come to the same conclusion.

Tracy leant forward, sincere, concerned.

‘It would be better if you just told us,’ she said.

‘Told you what?’

‘Told us what happened.’

He nodded, considered the proposition, looked over at his solicitor.

‘It’s not just Rob,’ he said at last. ‘It’s my nan. I need to see her. I need to be at that funeral. That’s the only reason I’m back here. Don’t you understand that?’

‘OK.’ Michaels nodded. ‘Then why don’t you just tell us what happened and then we’ll make a few decisions of our own.’

‘About what?’

‘About whether we believe you, for a start.’

Unwin stared at him for a moment, then began to laugh.

‘You think I’d make a thing like that up?’ He shook his head. ‘That’s fucking mad.’

‘A thing like what?’

Unwin’s eyes flicked left again. He was looking at Barber. He wanted someone to get him off this hook, tell him everything would be sweet.

‘Dave’s right,’ Barber said. ‘Unless you get it off your chest, we can’t possibly help. You have to trust us, Chris. There’s no other way.’

There was a long pause. When the solicitor touched him on the arm and murmured something in his ear, Unwin ignored him. Finally he looked at Barber again.

‘OK.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Why not?’

The last time he’d been over to Shanklin, he said, was back in October. It had been a Thursday, pissing down with rain. He’d dropped by the home to see his nan. They’d talked for a bit and had a pot of tea, just like always, and he’d been on his way out when he ran into Pelly.

‘He was in a bit of a state. He looked like shit. I’d never seen him that way. I was amazed, tell you the truth.’

‘What was the matter?’

‘He wouldn’t tell me, just took me upstairs, out the back, where he lives. I’d been up there a couple of times previous. Lajla was up there too. And the kid, the little girl. I’d never seen that before.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Them up in Rob’s place. You’re right; I should have said. They don’t live together. She’s got her own place. Down below.’

Pelly, he said, wanted a favour. He told Lajla and the girl to go downstairs. Then he explained about a parcel he had to get rid of, big thing, heavy. It was out the back, in the garage. He needed a hand.

‘What was it?’

‘I didn’t ask. Not then. I just said yes, why not. I had the van. No problem. I could dump it at the tip on the way back to the ferry. But then it started getting weird because he said the tip was no good. It had to be tonight, once it got dark. And it meant taking it out to sea on his boat. That got me thinking.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I wanted to say no.’

‘But … ?’

‘He wouldn’t let it go. He said a hundred quid. Then
he doubled it. Coming from Rob, that’s a fortune. Got me more worried than ever. I knew something was up.’

‘But you agreed?’

‘I had to. It wasn’t just the money. It was … like … I knew. And once I knew he made it obvious that I had no choice. Either I helped him or …’ He shook his head, looking away.

‘Or what?’

‘He’s mad. You should see him sometimes, the things he does to blokes who cross him. You never want to go there, believe me. Man’s a fucking animal.’

There was a long silence, finally broken by Tracy Barber.

‘So what did you think was in the parcel?’

‘A body. What else could it be?’

‘And were you right?’

‘Yeah … Turns out I was.’

Unwin disappeared into Shanklin for a couple of hours. When he came back it was dark. Around seven he helped Pelly bundle the parcel into the back of his Volvo. It was wrapped in black polythene, he said, and roped. It was soft as well as heavy. At one point he felt a knee.

‘What about a head?’ It was Michaels.

‘Wrong end. He made sure I had the other end.’ He frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Nothing.’ Michaels scribbled a note. ‘Go on.’

They’d driven in convoy down to the water at Bembridge Harbour.

‘Whereabouts in Bembridge Harbour?’

Bent over his notes next door, Faraday nodded in approval. The edges of Bembridge Harbour were littered with boatyards, flats, houses, business premises, even – at the southerly end – a line of houseboats.
So just where would you find the privacy to risk something like this?

Unwin was talking about an area known as the Duver. You got there, he said, down a narrow road. There was a small car park surrounded by bushes. A path led up onto the dunes. A hundred metres or so and you were on a quiet stretch of foreshore, outside the harbour itself. There were beach huts there. The tide was up on the shingle below.

‘So what happened?’

‘We got the body out of the Volvo, carried it up over the dunes. Bloody thing weighed a ton.’

Concealing the body in scrub behind one of the beach huts, they’d driven back up the road and round to the harbour. Pelly had a boat of his own, a thing he called a Tidemaster, but he’d already done a deal with some guy about another boat. Pelly was going to be in charge of this other boat. Pelly’s own boat was down to Unwin.

‘Did you know anything about boats?’ It was Michaels.

‘Not much. I’d been out with Rob a couple of times. Mackerel mainly. I can steer OK. He knew that. He’d let me have a go.’

‘So what happened?’

‘It was crazy. The tide was up so we had to use another little boat to get out to his, a dinghy thing. We tied the dinghy to his boat and then went out of the harbour. The place where we’d left the body is down to the left. Rob dropped the anchor and we took the dinghy onto the beach.’

Getting the body into the dinghy, he said, was a nightmare. Rowing back out, he thought the bloody thing was going over.

‘Was it rough?’

‘No, not really. It wasn’t that. It was still pissing down but it wasn’t rough. It was just the situation. Something like that, it’s just bizarre.’