Danby sighed. ‘Billy was a friend, known him since we were both in uniform. Never really wanted promotion, said he liked it at the sharp end. Spent three months infiltrating Michael “Mental Mikey” Maitland’s operation.’ The big man gave a small, unhappy laugh. ‘Far as Mikey’s crew were concerned, Billy was a cop on the take: ready to do favours for a reasonable price. But he was really following the money.’
‘So why’s Knox being such a—’
Logan frowned. ‘But what’s that—’
‘If you’ll bloody shut up for a minute, you’ll find out.’
Silence.
‘We only started looking into Knox for the Brucklay rape and abduction because Billy tipped us off. There were rumours Mikey’s principal accountant had “unusual tastes”.’
Logan opened his mouth. Shut it again. Then turned to stare at the weaselly little man kneeling in front of the gravestone. ‘Knox worked for the mob?’
‘Graduated with a BA in accounting and finance from Northumbria University. He was their main money man. That’s why he got away with raping old men for so long; a visit from Mental Mikey’s boys tends to encourage amnesia in victims and witnesses.’
‘But…no self-respecting criminal’s going to put up with that, they’d carve “nonce” in his forehead and string him up by the goolies.’
Danby laughed, a deep rumbly sound that boomed out over the graveyard. Knox didn’t even look up.
‘Sergeant, think about it. That weedy strip of piss over there is the only person Mikey
Over by the grave, the man in question reached out a hand and caressed his granny’s headstone.
Logan finally got it. ‘And let me guess: there’s no way the CPS is going to turn a blind eye to Knox abducting and violently raping someone’s grandad, not even to get info on a mob operation. So he can’t cut a deal.’
‘Exactly. Long as Knox doesn’t go mad, keeps the rapes down to a couple a year, it’s manageable, know what I’m saying? Look at premier league football, never did them any harm, did it?’ Danby rubbed at his calf. ‘When we arrested Knox for the William Brucklay rape, Mikey got him the best lawyer; made sure Knox’s mum went to a good care home. And Knox kept his mouth shut. Seven years he was inside, never said a single word about Mental Mikey’s empire.’
Danby shivered as another gust of sleet battered across the graveyard. ‘Think I’ll wait in the car.’
Logan glanced over at Knox – still praying. ‘That’s why you’re up here, isn’t it? You think he’ll talk to you.’
‘That nasty piece of shite knows everything there is to know about Mental Mikey’s operation. Crack him and you could tear the whole thing apart, know what I’m saying?’
The DSI turned his back and limped towards the exit.
Logan shouted after him, ‘So…why does he keep winding you up about Billy Adams, then?’
Danby didn’t even turn around.
‘Because he’s a sex offender. Manipulating people is what they do.’
Logan picked his way between the graves, lurching as the wind strafed the cemetery with slivers of ice, joining the team from Sacro.
Mandy had her whole body hunched up, stamping her feet, huddling under the bucking umbrella her partner was holding. ‘We’re not going to have to do this every Sunday, are we? I can’t feel my toes any more.’
Harry wiped a sleeve across the underside of his nose. ‘Could be worse. At least we’re out of that mould-ridden filthy—Fuck!’
The umbrella whipped inside out: a satellite dish on a stick. Harry tried to force it back into shape while the wind hammered them.
Mandy grabbed Logan’s sleeve and nodded at a life-sized statue of an angel, perched atop a big square plinth on the other side of the path.
‘Erm…I…’
‘It’s OK, Sergeant, I’m not going to molest you.’ She led him over into the relative shelter of the angel’s wings. ‘Wanted to have a word with you about our boy over there.’ Mandy nodded in the direction of the praying Knox.
‘Still creeping you out?’
She shuffled round, using Logan as an additional windbreak. ‘I think he’s in touch with someone, passing messages. Got no proof though, and I can’t exactly spin his pad, can I?’
Logan must have looked as confused as he felt, because she sighed and said, ‘Spin his pad: search his cell?’
‘Mobile phone?’
She chewed at the inside of her cheek. ‘Probably. I’m guessing he’d want to keep it close, so…maybe that plastic bag he takes everywhere like a sodding security blanket?’
‘Trouble is, we can’t really do anything about it, even if he has. There’s nothing about owning a mobile phone in his prevention order.’
