The file contained a few surprises:
Born Belfast 1945. He had gone to the relatively posh Methodist College and then to Queens University where he had briefly read English before being rusticated for being drunk and disorderly. Unemployed for a bit and, in that most turbulent of years, 1968, he had joined the police as a “special constable” but had resigned in early 1969, presumably having had his fill of beating up peaceful Catholic Civil Rights marchers. He had evidently moved to England after that, because in 1975 he was arrested for an armed robbery of a Brixton post office. The jury of his peers acquitted him of that offence but in 1978 he was convicted of insurance fraud in a case of an Irish pub that had burned to the ground. He served eighteen months in a minimum security institution and then apparently moved north. In 1980 he was arrested for assaulting a man in a bar in Bradford but the charges were dropped. In 1982 he assaulted another man in Manchester and again the charges were dropped. In 1984 he was arrested for another armed robbery on a post office and this time he got three years.
I handed the file back to Lawson. “Not a very successful criminal. But he wasn’t a complete idiot. He went to Queens. All the best people go to Queens.”
“Is that where you went, sir?” Lawson asked innocently.
“It is indeed.”
“He had quite a varied criminal record though, didn’t he? Bank robbery, insurance fraud,” Crabbie said.
“Aye he’s tried a few things,” I agreed. “But no drug dealing. Drug dealing is a new arrow in his quiver, if you’ll excuse the association.”
“He’s done everything except for getting a real job,” Crabbie said.
“And he was a former policeman, did you see that, sir?” Lawson said.
“Well an ‘Ulster Special Constable’. You can’t really call him a policeman,” Crabbie said, quick to defend the honour of the RUC.
“Is that like a reservist?” Lawson asked.
“No, not the same thing at all. When were you born, son?” I asked.
“1967.”
“You’ve never heard of the B Specials?” Crabbie said.
Lawson shook his head. “I’ve heard of them but I don’t really know what they are.”
“In 1922 the Ulster Special Constabulary was set up to support the police. There were the A Specials – full timers, B Specials – part-timers and C Specials – volunteers who didn’t get paid. The A Specials were absorbed into the RUC and became regular policemen. The C Specials were disbanded and that left the B Specials,” I explained.
“Back in 1968 in Belfast they thought there was going to be an all-out war between the Protestants and the Catholics. The police were ridiculously undermanned so they hired hundreds of B Special constables to fill the gaps. Some of them were decent enough but there was a pretty high percentage of thugs who joined just looking for some action,” Crabbie said.
“They were poorly trained, poorly equipped and the vetting wasn’t all it could have been,” I added.
“The B Specials performed so badly in the first two years of the Troubles that at the end of 1969 they were disbanded completely,” Crabbie said.
“But maybe his police training helped him in his criminal career?” Lawson suggested.
“It doesn’t look like that criminal career was too successful either, was it?”
“We don’t know that. The criminal record only shows the crimes he was done for,” Lawson said.
I nodded, yawned and stood up. “Good point. All right then lads, enough procrastination, let’s talk to the widow Deauville.”
We were about to knock on the door of Interview Room #1 when Kenny Dalziel shimmered out of nowhere and intercepted us.
“Ah, Duffy, I wanted to talk to you about a couple of things before I leave.”
“Can’t do it, Kenny, got to interview a witness in a murder investigation. Police work, if you know what that is.”
Kenny grimaced and I could see the gears working behind those vinegary black eyes, patience Kenny he’ll pay for this, just a couple of months now and he’ll pay …
“You and Sergeant McCrabban both failed the run. You’ll have to take it again in a month and pass it if you want to be considered fit for duty. When I get back from my holidays I’ll be conducting a PT class every morning. Attendance is mandatory.”
“No, I’m afraid we can’t do that, Kenny. We’re too busy in CID. Small department. Lot of cases. Dr Havercamp already has McCrabban and me on a fitness regime. Was that all?”
Kenny’s lips pursed. “No, it’s not all. I’ve been told that one of your witnesses is Bulgarian, is that right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Last year you and Constable Lawson went to Finland to supposedly follow up on a lead. That little trip cost the station a thousand pounds. And you’ve also been to England and Scotland on the station’s shilling.”