by Adam Croft
He watched as Emily and Ethan, hand in hand, entered Mildenheath Hospital’s maternity wing.
36
Jack arrived at the station with a smorgasbord of emotions running through him. Anger. Fury. Disappointment. Fear. Elation. Despair.
As far as he’d been aware, Ethan Turner was off the scene. When had he come back? When had she been seeing him? And for how long had she been pregnant?
He’d always been a man who was in control, but now he felt as if he was losing his grip on everything. The investigation at work was running away from him, he was on the verge of losing his autonomy to the desk jockeys at Milton House and now this.
He’d never been in control of Emily. No-one had. And he wouldn’t have wanted to be. But he had at least laboured under the misapprehension that she would have felt comfortable telling him something like this. As far as she knew, Jack had no problem with Ethan. He’d comforted her and supported her when the lad had told her he didn’t want to see her any more. She had no reason not to come to him now.
Unless.
Unless Ethan Turner had got back in touch with Emily and told her exactly what Jack had done to him. The threats he’d made. The way Jack had pinned him up against a wall and given him no option.
Jack pushed those thoughts from his mind. Emily was too much like her mother to have let that lie. She couldn’t have kept that knowledge to herself. She would have confronted her dad within seconds. That just left the horrifying, gut-wrenching realisation that she hadn’t told him because she didn’t feel she could.
His stomach lurched as another thought came to him. What if she hadn’t told him because she wasn’t planning on going through with it? What if she and Ethan had gone to the hospital to ask about a termination? What if they were there for the procedure?
He looked at his watch. Almost half an hour had passed. Would he be too late? Should he call her, tell her he knew, ask her not to go through with it? Was that what he wanted? More importantly, was it what she wanted? Would she even be able to do that without parental consent? He wasn’t sure how it worked. He had a horrifying thought that Emily had told the hospital her parents were dead or estranged. But wouldn’t they then need to speak to whoever her legal guardian was? Another terrible thought hit him. What if she hadn’t gone to Jack because, instead, she’d gone to Helen? Was his ex-wife inside the hospital with Emily now? The ex-wife who abandoned them both, dumped Emily with her grandparents and went off to drink the world dry?
He needed to clear his head. He couldn’t work like this. Didn’t want to, in any case. All he wanted was to be there to comfort Emily.
Above all, he felt guilty. Guilty that he couldn’t be there for her. Guilty that she hadn’t come to him. Guilty that Ethan Turner, the lowest scrote of them all, had bothered to turn up at the hospital first thing in the morning to embrace Emily and take her hand, accompanying her into the maternity wing. He hadn’t even done that himself when Helen had fallen pregnant with Emily. He didn’t make it to a single antenatal class. Not one midwife’s appointment. Work had always got in the way.
If he was honest with himself, that was at the root of everything. That cold, lifeless grey building in front of him. That lump of concrete with rising damp. He’d spent his life trying to put criminals behind bars, and as a result he’d found himself second-best to one of them, a petty thief proving to be a better father than he’d ever been.
In any case, years of neglect couldn’t be undone in a single morning. There was very little that could be done about his personal life right now, but his career was, he hoped, still salvageable. Jack got out of his car and walked into the station, making his way through the maze of corridors and up into his office.
Before his backside had hit the chair, his phone rang. It was Charles Hawes.
‘Jack, can you pop up to my office please?’ the Chief Constable said. ‘And bring Detective Sergeant Knight with you.’
Jack and Wendy both knew instinctively what it would be about. They were being pulled in to get roasted over the visit they’d paid to Theo, without informing or getting authorisation from Professional Standards.
‘I’m not going to beat around the bush,’ Hawes said once the pair had entered his office and sat down. ‘The death of PC Curwood is going to cause us a lot of problems, from a lot of angles. Now, I know it can’t have been easy finding him like that…’
‘I’ve seen plenty of stiffs in my time, sir,’ Jack said.
‘I understand that. But my primary concern right now is for my officers. There was no way in hell you should have even been there. Professional Standards have full responsibility for the investigation into PC Curwood. You know that. This really does not look good, Jack. You’re going to have a lot of questions to answer.’
‘With respect, sir, we needed to speak to him. He was the missing link between the robberies and the people responsible. Between you and me, I don’t think PC Curwood was a bad egg. I think his head was turned by money. And I think I know who turned it.’
‘Again, that’s PS’s job. They’ve got the ability to do far more than we can, and that enables them to uncover the whole tangled web. We can’t just go thundering in like a bull in a china shop. Now the whole lot of them will have been spooked, and there’s fuck all we can do. They’ll have gone to ground. Burned their bridges.’
Jack wondered how many idioms and clichés the Chief could fit into a single speech.
‘Sir, I’ve got to say, it was done with the best of intentions,’ Wendy said, trying to defend Jack.
‘It doesn’t bloody matter what your intentions were, Detective Sergeant Knight. Professional Standards will be all over this, and they’re going to think you were involved. They’ll think you were trying to cover something up. There are corrupt officers in the force, one is identified and then two others rock up at his place and find him hanging from the ceiling. Do you have any idea how that’s going to look?’
‘With respect, sir, he’d been dead for hours when we found him.’
‘I know that, and you know that. But that’s not how it’ll be dressed up. You’re a pair of fucking idiots, the both of you.’
‘Sorry, sir,’ Jack said. ‘But that’s wrong. DS Knight had no part to play in this. She tried convincing me not to get involved. She warned me it’d mean picking a fight with Professional Standards. The worst she did was reluctantly agree to allow me to make a phone call to Theo, and she didn’t even want me to do that. She’s not to blame. I am.’
Hawes sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, seemingly happy enough with Jack’s comments.
‘You know Penny Andrews is going to be all over this, don’t you Jack?’
‘Yeah. Well you can give her a message from me.’
‘What’s that?’ the Chief Constable asked.
‘Tell her to go fuck herself.’
37
Jack and Wendy walked silently back to the incident room, with the only spoken words being Wendy’s thanks to Jack for defending her. He nodded his acceptance, then went into his office and shut the door behind him.
He didn’t know which way to turn. He had plenty of people to make up to, and a number of decisions to be made. One of them was simple enough, though.
He took his phone out of his pocket and called Chrissie. He glanced at his watch, noting that she’d be at work, but hoping she might be on her own in the office and able to take his call. After thirty seconds or so, his call went through to voicemail.
‘Hi Chrissie. It’s me,’ he said. ‘Look, I just wanted to ring you to apologise for not getting back to you the other day. Some stuff’s kicked off at work and at… Well, at work. And I just wanted to say sorry I hadn’t been in touch and didn’t answer you. That’s about it really. Sorry. Call me when you get this, please.’
He put his phone down on the desk and leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the leather. He could easily sleep now. Push everything out of his mind and get an hour’s peace. But he knew
there was no way that was going to happen.
As if reading his mind, there was a knock at the door and Wendy entered. She didn’t say anything at first, but came and sat on the corner of his desk.
‘Seriously,’ she said. ‘Thanks. You didn’t need to do that.’
‘Yeah I know. I did it because I’m the best boss you’re ever going to have, or anybody could ever wish to have.’
‘Something like that. But I don’t want you to be my boss at the moment. I want you to be my colleague. My… acquaintance. What’s wrong? You’ve been distant the last couple of days, and on a completely different planet this morning.’
Jack exhaled heavily. ‘Fuck, where do I start?’
‘Give me the headlines.’
He thought for a moment, wondering whether to skirt around the issue or dive straight in.
‘It’s Emily. I think she might be pregnant.’
Wendy struggled to hide her surprise. ‘Wow. Okay.’
‘Yeah. And I’m pretty sure the father is known to us.’
‘Blimey. Yeah, I can see why that might play on your mind a bit. Have you spoken to her about it?’
Jack shook his head. ‘She doesn’t know I know. I only really found out this morning. I mean, I think I’ve probably known for a couple of days, deep down. The other morning when I went in the bathroom I could tell she’d been sick in there. Sounds stupid to say it, but I just hoped it was underage drinking or drugs or something.’
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Wendy asked.
‘I doubt it, to be honest. I don’t even know what I can do.’
‘Maybe you should sit down and have a chat with her. Calmly, I mean. In a supportive way. Or I could do it, if you like? Might be easier with a woman.’
‘She barely knows you.’
‘I know. That might be an advantage. Although, if you want me to change the subject entirely, I’ve got something that might cheer you up. That private security firm Ian Gumbert hired after the robberies? The one that Theo Curwood recommended to him? One of the shareholders is Gary McCann.’
‘Yeah, I already guessed that one. I appreciate the sentiment, though.’
‘Alright. In that case, what if I told you we’d done a bit of digging into their employees and discovered that there’s a disproportionately high number of ex-cons working for them. Three of them were in the same prison as Damian King. At the same time. One of them was a cellmate of his.’
Jack looked up at Wendy. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Deadly serious.’
38
The new breakthrough had given them more than enough to re-arrest Damian King. There was now something else linking him to the robberies — the fact that he’d shared a cell with one of the employees of the security company who’d weaselled their way into looking after Ian Gumbert’s petrol stations, and that two further employees had been in the same prison at the same time.
It was starting to come together, and on the face of it everything looked very simple. There was something nagging at Jack, though. McCann was a clever bugger, and it had seemed a little easy and convenient that he was listed as a director or shareholder at the security firm and the locks and glazing company that fitted Elsie Fogg’s new back door. That was a clear paper trail, of sorts. Of course, a decent solicitor would argue — probably successfully — that this was purely a coincidence. Gary McCann had fingers in a huge number of pies, and had directorships at a large percentage of local businesses. That was what he did.
If that was the case, it infuriated Jack. It was almost as if McCann was dangling this right under his nose, knowing Jack would see the truth but be unable to do anything about it. That was always the case with McCann — he almost went out of his way to make sure Jack knew he was involved, but was wise enough to ensure the evidence was only ever circumstantial at best. Just a little hint here and there, but never anything they could come anywhere near being able to do anything about. One day, Jack knew McCann would drop the ball. And he’d be there, ready and waiting to volley the fucker into next week.
Jack and Wendy were back in his office, preparing their approach for Damian King’s interview. He’d been arrested at his home and brought in, and was currently being booked into the custody suite. They’d had to apply for an extension to detain him, as there were only a few minutes left on his custody clock from his previous arrest. They’d got an extension to thirty-six hours, giving them just over twelve to either charge or release him.
‘Listen, before we get stuck in I just wanted to say thanks for earlier,’ Jack said.
‘How do you mean?’
‘For listening. Checking on me. Whatever. Just wanted to say thanks.’
‘It’s fine. My pleasure.’
‘And how are you?’ he asked.
Wendy was a little taken aback. She was pretty sure this was the first time he’d ever asked after anyone else’s welfare, especially hers. ‘Yeah, fine thanks.’
‘And things with Xav? They good?’
‘Yeah, they are,’ she said, smiling. ‘Apart from him bugging me to take the inspector’s exam again.’
‘He’s got a point. You’d absolutely smash it, if you ask me. You’re good. But don’t let that get to your head, alright?’
Wendy smiled again. ‘I’ll try. I dunno, though. I still haven’t decided.’
‘What’s holding you back?’
‘Honestly? My dad.’
‘Your dad’s dead.’
‘Exactly. He never got to achieve what he wanted to achieve. His career was cut short at Inspector level. I dunno. I kind of feel as if I’d be doing him a disservice if I reach what he reached, or even go beyond that. He had no choice. It was taken away from him. It feels wrong somehow.’
Jack swallowed. ‘Every parent wants their kids to do better than they did. To have more opportunities than they did. And I know damn well your dad was no different. He’d have wanted you to reach for the stars.’
Wendy tried to hold back the tears. ‘I know he would.’
‘Right. That’s sorted then. Now, onto nailing this King fucker.’
* * *
The interview started much as they’d suspected, although this time Damian had opted to have a solicitor present. He was clearly smart enough to know that if they’d re-arrested him and got authority to add more time to his custody clock, they must have something on him. Jack and Wendy were thankful for the solicitor’s presence, as it seemed to at least mute Damian’s arrogance somewhat.
‘Damian, do you mind if we ask you again where you were on these dates?’ Wendy asked, referring to the nights of the robberies.
‘I believe my client has already answered that question in a previous interview,’ the solicitor said, speaking for Damian.
‘That’s correct, but we’re asking him again.’
‘You can ask all you like, but he has no obligation to answer. He’s provided you with full alibis, I understand.’
Wendy looked at King. ‘Damian?’
‘No comment,’ he said, with a small sneer.
‘Listen, Damian,’ Jack said, leaning forward. ‘We’re not interested in your silly little games, not that it matters anymore anyway. We know you used to work at Ian Gumbert’s petrol station. We know you hated Gumbert. We know you stole from him. We know you’ve got form for violent assault. We know you visited Fogg’s Jewellers and you even provided us with a nice alibi from a prostitute to corroborate that fact. And that’s not all. Detective Sergeant Knight?’
‘Tell us about your time at HMP Bathurst, Damian.’
‘What about it?’
‘Any particular friends you made? Cellmates, perhaps?’
‘A few. Can’t avoid that in prison, though, can you? Not many other places to go. It’s sort of the point.’
‘Do you recognise any of these gentlemen from your time at Her Majesty’s pleasure?’ Wendy asked, opening a folder and passing three photos across the desk to Damian.
‘Yo
u don’t have to answer,’ the solicitor said.
Damian looked up at them. ‘I don’t have to answer.’
‘That’s fine,’ Wendy said. ‘I can answer the question for you. This one here is Ezekiel Copeland, who was serving time for extortion on the same wing as you. The chap next to him is Tyler O’Dowd. He was in for stealing his own nan’s life savings, believe it or not. She’d had enough of his antics and reported him to the police. Unfortunately for him it was fourth time unlucky, and he spent a short period of time inside HMP Bathurst, on… Oh yes. The same wing as you. And the handsome gentleman next to him is Angelo Soanes. Do you know him a bit better, perhaps?’
‘No comment.’
‘That’s rather odd, because we have it on good authority he was your cellmate.’
‘Don’t have a very good memory for faces, do you?’ Jack asked.
‘You don’t need to respond,’ the solicitor told Damian.
‘These three gentlemen now all work for the same security company in Mildenheath. That company came to Ian Gumbert following the robberies he was a victim of, offering to keep his premises secure. That’s the Ian Gumbert you used to work for, in the petrol station that was robbed, who you hated and stole money from.’
‘Maybe we should take a break there so my client and I can liaise in private,’ the solicitor said, going to stand up.
‘No,’ King said. ‘No, let’s do this. Let’s roll. Come on. Give it to me.’
‘Alright,’ Wendy said. ‘Maybe you could tell us a little more about how all these little pieces fall into place.’
‘No comment,’ Damian said, smirking.
‘From where I’m sitting, Damian,’ Jack said, ‘it looks as if you’re the mastermind behind this operation. Of course, we both know that isn’t true because you’re thick as pig shit, but that doesn’t really matter. As things stand, you’re the only one we have something on so you’re the one who’s going to take the rap unless you man up and tell us what’s been going on, who’s involved and who’s behind this operation.’