Page 30 of The Hallmarked Man
‘Yeah, but the people working there recognised it as Wright from hair, height, build et cetera. DNA from the body matched DNA found in the shop, including hair in the U-bend of the sink. The corpse had been dressed in something weird, but my contact wouldn’t tell me what. I got the impression it was done to send a message, maybe to humiliate him.’
Murphy took another swig of water, then said,
‘The next bit is what youcan’ttalk about.’
‘We won’t,’ Robin assured him.
‘It explains why there’s been no absolute confirmation Wright was really Jason Knowles, but if you talk—’
‘Ryan, we won’t.’
‘All right,’ said Murphy and he continued: ‘Jason Knowles was very well connected, underworld-wise. Most of his family are cons, and his uncle’s a serious player. Knowles himself wasn’t a big fish, though, just a thief.
‘The National Crime Agency’s had a plainclothes plant in Knowles’ uncle’s circle for the past six months, because the uncle’s dealing guns. The NCA guy heard the same story from two separate sources: Jason was lured into an ambush in the belief he and his killers were doing a job together, and his body had been left unidentifiable. The rumour was, his uncle personally gave the order to kill him, suspecting he was the one leaking info to the police.’
‘Jesus,’ said Robin quietly.
‘Everything about the silver job fitted. Corpse matched Knowles in height and build, and when the cops showed the photograph of Knowles to the people working at the shop, they thought it was him. They said they couldn’t be a hundred per cent, because Wright had a beard, which Knowles didn’t in his pictures, nor did Knowles wear glasses, as Wright did, nor was Knowles usually fake tanned. Wright’s hair was darker than Knowles’, as well, but the corpse’s hair was found to be dyed. Knowles had also been boasting that his next job would be all over the papers, and the silver that was stolen was historically important.’
‘Fingerprints?’ said Strike.
‘That was a problem.’
‘Knowles’s must’ve been on record?’
‘They were, but the body’s hands were missing, which obviously implies the killer knew the fingerprints would identify the body.’
‘Weren’t Wright’s prints all over the shop?’
‘The assistants wear gloves to handle all the silver and open the glass cabinets, and unfortunately, the cleaner did a very thorough job on the shop, the staff area and the toilet on Monday morning, right before the body was found.’
‘Who’s the cleaner?’ asked Strike.
Murphy flipped over a page.
‘Bloke called Todd.’
‘Male cleaner?’ said Strike.
‘Mencanclean, I’ve heard,’ said Robin.
‘Thought that was an urban myth,’ said Strike.
Acting as though he hadn’t heard this exchange, Murphy continued,
‘The NCA plant was obviously going to be in danger if the Met started pursuing DNA identification of Knowles, so the NCA asked the Met to fudge it – keep appealing for information until they’d wrapped up the gun trafficking case and Knowles’ relatives could be safely tested.
‘Unfortunately, the guy in charge of the vault case, Malcolm Truman, then went rogue, and announced the Met were certain the body was Knowles.’
‘The fuck did he do that for?’ asked Strike, genuinely perplexed.
‘Journalists were running with the Freemasonry angle, and Truman didn’t want to look like a bloke who didn’t have any leads. My source says he’s an arrogant tit who didn’t want to look clueless in the press. He was suspended after he talked. The team working the case tried to undo the damage, but the papers lost interest once they heard Wright had been a crim and the Freemasonry angle was bullshit. Bottom line,’ said Murphy, ‘William Wright was Jason Knowles, but they can’t prove it yet.’
Murphy now set down his water and reached for a slice of pizza.
‘I take it the people who worked at the shop are in the clear?’ asked Strike.
‘Yeah, they all had rock-solid alibis,’ said Murphy through a mouthful of pizza. ‘Todd the cleaner was playing cards into the small hours with a regular poker group who confirmed he was with them. The manager, name of Pamela, spent the weekend in Grantham, attending a family wedding, set off at eight on Friday evening. The owner, Ramsay, is a part-time carer for his wife; they had friends staying over the weekend who confirmed he only left the house for a pub lunch with them on Saturday.’
