The Late Greats Page 9
If she wasn’t angry before, she was now.
‘He said he saw a couple of men leaving the studio right after Tasker was killed’ I said.
We stared at each other. I chanced my arm. ‘What did he tell you?’ I asked.
She sighed, like she’d heard it all before. ‘With respect, Mr Geraghty, I wouldn’t tell you the time if you asked me. But please be assured we’re looking into it. This isn’t a job for you.’
She walked across the room to the door and opened it. We were finished.
I followed her back to the reception area. ‘His family want his things back, anything you found on him.’
She stopped walking. ‘I suggest you mind your own business.’
‘What about the money he took from his girlfriend’s till?’
‘What money?’
I smiled. She shouldn’t have confirmed for me that it wasn’t on his person when they found him.
She showed me to the door. ‘I’ll let DI Robinson know you dropped in.’
I left my car where it was and walked to Tasker’s flat. This was my first sighting of it in daylight. It looked like any other nondescript new build block which had sprung up around the city centre in the last few years. Plenty of glass and cheap looking brickwork. Letting myself in, I headed to the front room. It was a mess. CDs had been ripped from shelves and thrown onto the floor. Drawers had been emptied and discarded. Whoever had done this hadn’t been subtle. Had Major been responsible? Looking around the room, I could tell the police’s Scene of Crime Officers had already been and gone. I stepped over broken glass and walked into the kitchen. Nothing. Tasker’s flat was nowhere near as big as mine and probably twice as expensive. I left the kitchen and moved into his bedroom. Tasker’s clothes had been thrown across the floor, duvet cast aside. Whoever had been in here had done a thorough job. I was pleased his parents hadn’t seen the mess. I heard someone walk in.
‘Hello’ I shouted. I walked back into the front room. Attack was the best form of defence. A middle-aged woman stood in front of me. ‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you’ I said to her.
‘Your colleague said you were all finished here once your scientific people had done their stuff.’
She thought I was a police officer. ‘Just a few loose ends to tie up.’ I turned to face her. I made a decision. I hadn’t lied. I continued. ‘Are you a neighbour?’
She nodded. ‘Your colleague took all my details.’
‘Right.’
‘I can’t believe it, I really can’t. One of my friends told me who Greg was. I had no idea. I’m not a music fan, so it didn’t really mean anything to me, but it’s terrible to think of what happened to him.’
‘It is. Did you hear anything?’
‘I hear things nearly every day. He was always playing his guitar loudly and singing. It didn’t seem to matter to him what the time was. It was non-stop. If you’re talking about the nights your colleagues were asking about, there were some very noisy arguments. I wasn’t able to tell them more than that.’
‘Did you hear what they were arguing about?’
She shook her head. ‘The walls are thin in this place, but not that thin.’
‘Was it a man he was arguing with?’
‘It was usually a woman, but there have been men around here recently.’
That was interesting. ‘Did you ever see the people he was arguing with?’
‘I mind my own business. You have to be so careful these days, don’t you?’
I decided to come clean. ‘I’m not with the police.’ I passed her my business card. ‘I’m working for Greg’s family.’
She looked at my card. ‘Why would they need a Private Investigator?’
‘Just to keep the police on their toes.’ I smiled, hoping it would put her at ease.
‘I see.’ She put the card in her pocket.
‘Is there anything else you can tell me?’ I said I hadn’t caught her name.
‘Mrs Musgrave.’
‘Right.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t think of anything.’
I thanked her for her time and told her she shouldn’t hesitate to ring me if anything came to mind. I didn’t want to push my luck. Heading out, I saw the same two men I’d seen at Siobhan’s boutique parked up about fifty yards away, staring at me. I picked up my pace and hurried to my car.
CHAPTER TEN
I returned to the office feeling frustrated. There was something on Tasker’s mind before his death, but I had no way of knowing what it was. I’d thought Sarah was due to be here, but I was losing track of her movements. She’d left a message to tell me Kane Major had sent someone up from London to deal with his affairs. The man wanted to speak to me. Looking at my watch, he would be visiting in thirty minutes time. Obviously, he was under the impression I was available at his convenience.
I picked up the day’s post and walked over to the telephone. No sign of Don and no new messages. I put the post on Sarah’s desk and sat down. Going back to basics was the approach I should take. I wrote down what I knew and tried to make connections between people and events. The process didn’t clarify my thoughts. Rusting was the best lead, but he hadn’t been much help. I left the piece of paper on my desk and logged onto my emails. I couldn’t concentrate. I logged off and pushed things to one side. I needed to keep moving, so I looked up Priestley’s mobile number and called. I still hadn’t caught up with him following Tasker’s death. The call went straight to voicemail, but I decided not to leave a message. I’d call again later. My mobile rang almost immediately afterwards. It was Julia. I told her that I was waiting for Major’s man to turn up. ‘Do you want to come over and meet him?’
‘I can’t’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘Tell you later.’
She terminated the call. I stared at my mobile for a minute before putting it back on the desk. I’d have to wait. The door buzzer went. Looking into the camera, I would have known the man staring back at me was a solicitor. He had the self-confidence of a professional. He was early thirties, in good shape and neat and tidy around the edges. He was a man who looked after himself. I let him up and he walked straight over to my desk and sat down opposite me. He put his briefcase on the floor and took a business card from his pocket. ‘Marcus Whittle’ he said, handing it over to me. ‘I represent Kane Major.’
I put the card on my desk. I didn’t pass him one of mine. ‘Joe Geraghty.’
He looked around the room. ‘It’s not what I expected’ he said, before getting down to business. ‘I assume you know why I’m here?’
‘You tell me. I tried to ring Kane earlier and all I got was a message saying he’d left town.’ I shrugged. ‘No more than that. Odd, wouldn’t you say, given what’s happened?’
Whittle smiled. ‘Kane did say you have a bit of a mouth on you. He’s had to attend to some business in London, so he’s asked me to come up here to keep an eye on things.’
‘Why would he need you to keep an eye on things?’
He passed me an envelope. Money. ‘To be frank, you’re a Private Investigator, but I’m a solicitor. I can open doors you can’t. Kane will need someone here capable of looking out for his interests. Greg was a close friend, so he wants to make sure justice is done. Nothing changes. That’s a down payment on what you’re owed. Instead of dealing with Kane, you’ll deal with me for the foreseeable future. That’s all.’
‘Says who?’ Whittle’s attitude was starting to annoy me, money or not.
He feigned surprise. ‘You don’t want the work? Your choice. Just give me the money back and I’ll be on my way.’
I said nothing. He had me. Sarah wouldn’t thank me for not taking the money.
Whittle sat back in his chair. ‘Right. I think we have an agreement, Mr Geraghty?’
I wanted to argue. I wanted him out of the office. But I had nothing. I said we had an agreement and asked him what he wanted me to do.
‘Whatever’s necessary’ he said. ‘Kane needs
someone on his side up here, and you’re that man. When something needs doing, it’ll be you I come to.’
I didn’t like what I was hearing. ‘How long will you be staying?’ I asked.
‘As long as it takes.’
‘Major told me he was skint. How can he afford your services?’
‘No idea. I’m merely a foot-soldier. I do what I’m told.’ Whittle picked up the business card he’d put down. He wrote the name of the hotel he was staying at on the back of it. ‘You can get hold of me here when you have some news.’
I took the card back and put it in my pocket.
He stood up to leave. ‘Don’t suppose you can recommend a restaurant to eat in tonight? I assume you have a handful of passable ones in this place?’
I shook my head. I didn’t want him using my name anywhere I might want to go to again.
‘Not to worry. I’m sure I’ll cope.’
‘I’m sure you will.’
Whittle leaned over the desk. ‘Look, I don’t care if you don’t like me. Really I don’t. It’s not the slightest bit important to me, but don’t you ever forget which side you’re on. You’re being paid to do what Kane asks of you.’ He straightened himself back up and headed towards the door. ‘Let’s talk again soon.’
I didn’t move from my desk for several minutes after Whittle left. I didn’t care much for the man, or for Major, but I was stuck. He was right. He owned me. But I’d come to realise that if I could do what he wanted, I could help the Taskers at the same time. I wasn’t happy with the situation, but at least I could turn it to my advantage. It was something. I browsed the Internet for the latest news, but there was little to interest me. The decision on what to do next was made by Priestley finally returning my call. He’d spoken to DI Robinson’s team and now he wanted to speak to me. I told him to name a place. He told me he was at Paull. I told him I was thirty minutes away. I locked up and set off.
I had no difficulty in finding an empty space in the car park. The village sits on the banks of the Humber, out to the east of the city and under the shadow of the imposing BP Saltend chemical plant. I knew the area well. When I was a child, my parents would bring me and my brother here and we’d walk on the uneven path along the waterfront. I remembered looking across to the opposite side of the water, thinking at the time that it seemed as remote as the moon. When he was young, my brother had been obsessed with space travel. As well as his records, I’d inherited his poster collection when he’d left home. There had been plenty of space-shuttles and the moon, as well as the usual band posters.
I found Priestley stood at the foot of the path which led along the waterfront. I buttoned my coat up and started walking towards him. You know it’s cold at Paull when the ice-cream van isn’t there. I nodded to him. He returned my greeting and set off in the direction of the nature reserve. His dog followed obediently.
‘You didn’t get on too well with Robinson’ I said, catching him up. I had to raise my voice to be heard above the wind.
He let the dog off the leash and threw a ball for it to chase. ‘You could say that.’
‘What did the police want with you?’ I asked.
‘They’re talking to people who knew Greg. Just routine, they told me.’
I didn’t say anything for a moment. I hoped he’d continue. When he didn’t, I asked him what the problem was.
‘He wanted to know where I was the night Greg was killed.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘The truth’ he said. ‘I don’t have an alibi. I was out here walking.’
He turned towards me. ‘I didn’t kill him, Joe.’
‘Why did your wife offer me an alibi for you?’
He relaxed. ‘Carly’s very protective of me. She met me when I was in a bad place and she built me back up again. To tell the truth, I’ve never quite managed to shake that side of her from me. She thinks she has to look after me all the time. Truth is, I was out walking. I do it most nights. I have trouble sleeping, so rather than keep Carly awake with my tossing and turning, I go out walking. I just drive off somewhere and walk for an hour or so. It clears my head.’
‘She should be careful about what she says. It’ll cause you more trouble than the truth.’
‘Try telling her that.’
I nodded. ‘Did Robinson mention anything? Any enemies Greg had?’
‘Enemies?’
‘Just covering all bases.’
Priestley laughed. ‘He was the frontman of a famous band. He probably has more enemies than you can count. He was out of control a lot of the time, upsetting people and causing trouble. It was a long time ago. I wouldn’t know. Enough to kill?’ He threw the ball again for his dog. ‘I wasn’t looking forward to the reunion, you know.’
‘You told me you were when we last spoke.’
‘Just toeing the party line. I thought Greg would be back and we’d knuckle down to it.’
His wife had said as much to me, but I let it go. I could understand why he’d lied to me.
‘I can’t tell you how much I hated Greg for what he did to me and the band’ he said. ’And however much you want to forgive and forget, sometimes you just can’t.’ He turned to me. ‘I was prepared to go through with it. I was being truthful when I told you that. We should close the book on the band properly with some decent gigs. But I’m not stupid, I knew how difficult it was going to be. Part of the reason I’m not sleeping is because of the worry. Greg was always the most popular member of the band and that isn’t going to change, but the stick I got towards the end of things was unbelievable. I could have wallpapered my house with hate mail when people thought I was taking over the band. None of it was true. I just wanted to keep the show on the road.’
I thought back to what Lorraine Harrison had told me. ‘You weren’t trying to take over the band?’
Priestley shook his head. ‘I was writing more songs, that’s all, and I suppose I was more willing to fight my corner because I thought they were good.’ He paused. ‘Not that many people agreed with me. But to suggest I’d forced Greg into things, or forced the band to split up over it, is stupid.’ Priestley shrugged. ‘It was a difficult time for us all.’
‘How come?’
‘The second album wasn’t a huge success in terms of being a band. We were constantly touring and promoting the first record, so things were changing. Greg was becoming a big star, but he took his eye off the ball. We were recording in different studios, bit by bit when we had the time. It was the first real chance I’d had to use a studio properly, and I threw myself into it. It was something to focus on. The others were more interested in the partying, to be honest, and I guess things just became more strained.’
‘I suppose it’s inevitable. You’d want to enjoy the success, wouldn’t you?’
‘I suppose.’
I was surprised. Why would you do something if you didn’t want to succeed?
‘However much I enjoyed it, I was always homesick’ he said. ‘I like this area. I like walking out here. Just look at it.’
I looked. I liked living near the water, probably because it was in my blood, but all I could see was the industrial sight of the south bank of the Humber. It was remote, not picturesque. ‘You didn’t want to see the world?’
‘Not like Greg and Kane did. By the time of the last album, we were flying all over the world, and it messes you up’ he continued. ‘We played a lot of gigs in Japan and Greg just lost it with drink and drugs. Cocaine’s a terrible idea if you already think the world revolves around you.’ He paused for a moment before continuing. ‘Japan’s weird. When you’re in Europe, you can get by, you can read the odd word here and there, even if you can’t speak the language. In Japan nothing makes sense and then by the time we’d made it to Tokyo, we were just fried. The place makes London feel like a village. And then we had to come back to England where we’d already climbed the mountain. We were booked into the same venues we’d already played countless times. It felt like we were going back
wards. The gigs were shit. I argued with Greg about which songs we were going to play and the whole vibe was wrong. It was the end of the band.’
‘Why agree to the reunion? Why not let it lie?’
‘Because I couldn’t say no. This was a chance to put the record straight. Maybe then I’d be able to move forward.’
I had nothing to add. I looked out towards the marshland. Birds were swooping past, searching for food. I picked one out and followed it on its journey.
‘We argued’ he said. ‘Nearly came to blows in the rehearsal room.’
I knew something was coming. ‘You and Greg?’
He nodded. ‘The plan was to play a secret warm-up gig at the Adelphi, but we couldn’t agree on which songs to play.’
‘What happened?’ I asked.
‘It got a bit heated and we squared up to each other. It was a bit silly, really.’
I knew where this was going. ‘Who saw you?’
‘Kane Major.’
‘Right.’
‘It was nothing.’
I continued to stare straight ahead, not liking what I was hearing. ‘Do you know how Greg spent his days? Who he dealt with, who he spoke to?’
‘Not really.’
I turned back towards him. ‘It’s important’ I said.
‘He told me he was working on his album.’
‘I didn’t think he went into the studio that much.’
‘He had some recording equipment in his flat. We were alike in so many ways, not that we’d admit it. He was as plagued with doubt and insecurity about his new songs as I am with mine. I don’t go out much. I stay at home with my guitar. It’s what I like. I think he was the same.’
Priestley took a dog lead out of his pocket. He flexed it before turning to me. ‘We weren’t getting on particularly well, but I didn’t kill him, Joe. I’ve got nothing to hide. I’m telling you all this because I think I can trust you to get to the truth.’ He started to walk towards his dog. ‘You’ve got to believe me on that.’
Sometimes you get an offer you can’t refuse. As I’d driven away from Paull and back towards Hull, my mobile rang. I must have been out of range whilst I was talking to Priestley. I called the number back. DI Robinson. He told me he wanted to meet me straight away. Over the phone wouldn’t do. He named a pub, just outside of the city centre. It was far enough away from the prying eyes of the station, but close enough for him to walk to. Twenty minutes later, I’d made it there. Only a handful of customers and a bored looking barmaid in the place.