Johnny looked up. He wiped his eyes and drew in a shaky breath.
“I know, Sarge. I’ll tell them.”
“What will you tell them?”
“I’ll tell them I can’t help them anymore.”
“And what about your brother?”
“I don’t know. I’ll talk to him.”
“Your brother broke the law, Johnny. He bought drugs from the Kelvins, yes. It’s unlikely he’ll go to prison, as they were for personal use. But you’re breaking the law now. And what you’re doing is so much worse.”
“Dave’s a good bloke. He didn’t mean to…”
“Everybody thinks like that about their family, Johnny. But what your brother did. It’s his problem, Not yours.” Dennis scratched his chin. “And it’s him who has to pay for it. Not you, and certainly not that baby of yours.”
Johnny sniffed. “You’re right, Sarge. I’m sorry.”
“So are you going to be leaving early?”
A pause. Johnny closed his eyes, thinking.
“No, Sarge.” He looked out at Mike in the outer office. “Let me stay in here for a minute, yeah? I’ll make a call, and then I’ll come out.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Lesley sat on the police boat, heading towards Poole quay. She didn’t like having to leave the island. She was frustrated that she hadn’t tracked down Anya Davinski or Natasha Williams before she’d left. She could feel the evidence starting to take shape in her mind, but needed to know more.
Those three women, the remaining members of Simone’s team. Lesley was becoming more convinced that the three of them were hiding something from her, and that whatever that something was, it might be related to Simone’s death.
But she couldn’t leave Elsa in charge of her daughter, not for another night. She and Elsa weren’t even living together yet. Elsa hadn’t signed up to be a substitute mum for Sharon, particularly when the girl was under the influence of whatever madness had driven her to leave Birmingham late at night and head down to Bournemouth without knowing where her mum was.
Lesley huddled against the wind blowing across the harbour. It was chilly out here, no matter how warm it might be on land. The wind came in from past the Sandbanks ferry, the water pockmarked with small waves. Holidaymakers were out on the harbour, enjoying the August sunshine.
Lesley wished she could relax, maybe take some downtime to enjoy being near the coast. But what with work, and Sharon, and whatever was going on between Dennis and Johnny, she found it impossible to switch off. Lesley wasn’t somebody who found it easy to relax. Never had been, never would be.
The boat neared the quay. Tina was at the front, sitting with her three uniformed colleagues. She kept glancing back at Lesley as if worried she should be sitting with her new boss. A uniformed constable, part of CID, she didn’t really fit in either environment. Maybe Lesley would suggest that she go for the CID exam, become a fully-fledged Detective Constable. She was confident the woman would be good at it.
They pulled up alongside the quay and Lesley watched as the man who’d been steering the boat jumped out and secured it with ropes. The four PCs waited for her to get out first, deferring to her rank. She nodded at Tina as she climbed out of the boat.
“I’ll see you in the morning, PC Abbott,” she said. “What time does the boat leave?”
“Eight thirty,” Tina replied.
Hopefully by then she’d have sorted out whatever Sharon’s problems were, persuaded her to reconcile with Terry, and put her on a train back home.
She pulled her shoulders back and looked along the quay. She’d been driven here from HQ yesterday morning, but now she was going to Elsa’s. She didn’t want a squad car turning up outside, it would spook Sharon and irritate Elsa. She’d get a cab. She pulled out her phone, googling the nearest taxi rank.
Chapter Forty-Six
The atmosphere in the office was tense.
Johnny sat at his desk, not looking happy to be there. He’d emerged from the DCI’s office ten minutes after finishing his conversation with Dennis. Dennis had turned to him, raising his eyebrows in a question. Johnny had nodded.
Dennis only hoped that nod meant that Johnny had been able to extricate himself from whatever was expected of him this evening, without any undue consequences.
But he would need to keep an eye on the DC, make sure he wasn’t at risk. He didn’t relish the thought of telling the DCI what had been happening, but it was beginning to look inevitable.
“I’ve got something,” said Mike.
Dennis looked up. “You have?”
Johnny stood up from his chair, looking glad of the distraction. He walked round to Mike’s desk, an eager smile on his face. “What have you got, Mike?”
Dennis smiled at him and joined the two of them at Mike’s desk.
Mike had files onscreen that they’d been given by the National Trust. They’d been provided with visitor records, a list of members who’d visited the island on Monday, as well as personnel files. The personnel files had taken some persuasion to get hold of, but Mike had managed it in the end.
“What is it?” Dennis asked.
“It’s Simone,” Mike said. “She’d applied for a transfer off the island.”
“When?” Dennis asked.
“A week ago,” Mike said. “Here.”
He zoomed in on a letter. It was handwritten. A photocopy of a letter written in scratchy biro.
Dennis squinted at it. Did they not have computers on the island, or had she not wanted to use the National Trust computers?
“Does she say why she wanted a transfer?” he asked.
“Personal reasons,” Mike said. “She doesn’t get any more specific than that.”
“And this was a week ago?” Dennis asked.
“A week ago last Friday.”
“Thirteen days,” Dennis said.
“You think it’s got something to do with her death?” Johnny asked.
Dennis looked at him. “It’s quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you think?” He turned to Mike. “Who did she send it to?”
“HR manager, a woman called Sally Farthing.”
“If Simone wanted a transfer off the island,” Dennis said, “there are two people she would have spoken to about it. The woman from HR, and her line manager. What’s her name again?”
“Natasha Williams,” Mike replied. “She lives on the island with her husband. Bernard.”
“The journalist,” Dennis added. “The DCI told me about him.”
“Do you think there was a problem?” Johnny said. “Maybe she asked for a transfer ’cos she thought she was going to be sacked?”
Dennis shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”
He checked his watch. Half past six. It was unlikely the HR manager would be there now. And the DCI had left the island, so she couldn’t speak to Natasha Williams.
“Call the HR manager,” he told Mike. “It’s worth a shot.”
Mike picked up his phone. After a few movements, he shook his head. “Voicemail. You want me to leave a message?”
“No.” Dennis sighed. “We’ll follow this up first thing in the morning. For now, why don’t you both get off home?”
The two DCs murmured thanks.
“And Johnny,” Dennis added. “Tomorrow morning you go back to Brownsea Island. You can bring the DCI up to speed.”
Johnny paled. “Sarge. Surely it’s Mike’s turn…”
“No.” Dennis wanted Johnny away from potential trouble. “You’ve spoken to these people already. You’ve got a job to finish off.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Frankie checked her phone for the third time since arriving outside the café.
Seven thirty, half an hour after Anya had asked to meet.
She looked back towards the café. There was a gate in the side wall, which she’d come through. Anya would arrive the same way. Maybe she should go and check, in case it had been locked since she’d arrived.
Frankie walked
to the gate and pushed it open. Not locked.
So where is she? It was Anya who’d set this meeting up. Anya who had been so secretive. And now it was Anya who wasn’t showing up.
Frankie pursed her lips and looked out to sea. She didn’t need this. She’d rather be at home with Adam, tucked up in front of the TV. Each dealing with their respective shock over what had happened to Simone.
Adam had been wonderful since it had happened. He’d let her cry into his chest last night in bed, sobbing out her frustration at not being able to express her emotions to Natasha and Anya, and her fear that there might be a killer still on the island.
She shouldn’t even be here.
Adam had suggested that he come with her. But she’d reminded him that she’d lived here for eighteen months and had never felt unsafe. She wasn’t about to let that change now.
She walked out through the gate, towards the admin building and the quay beyond. She looked towards the castle and back towards the quay. Anya’s house was on the waterfront, looking across the harbour.
Frankie hurried towards the row of houses on the seafront, her breathing fast. She was starting to feel scared. She shouldn’t have come out alone. Maybe Adam was right to say he should come with her.
Stop it. She’d knock on Anya’s door. If her friend wasn’t in, she’d go straight home.
She hammered on Anya’s door, causing a group of seagulls on the water’s edge to fly into the air.
“Anya,” she called. “It’s Frankie.”
No answer.
Frankie moved to Anya’s front window. She cupped her hands around her face and brought them up to the glass. She peered into Anya’s living room.
There was no movement. No lights switched on.
She went back to the door and banged on it again.
Her friend wasn’t in.
Unless…
No, she told herself. Don’t be silly.
She ran back to the garden outside the cafe. This is a stupid place to meet. Why had Anya suggested it?
Anya wasn’t at the café.
Frankie felt a shiver run down her back.
She should get home.
She grabbed her phone and called Anya. Voicemail.
She fired off a text.
I think I missed u. I’m going home. See you in morning. Hope everything’s OK.
Frankie shoved her phone in her pocket and ran for home.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Lesley's phone buzzed as she arrived at Elsa's flat. She checked the display. It was Zoe.
She frowned and looked up at the windows of the flat. The lights were on, but she couldn't see movement. She'd deal with this quickly, then go inside and speak to Sharon.
“Zoe,” she said. “I'm in a hurry. What is it?”
“Sorry, boss,” Zoe said.
“I'm not your boss anymore,” Lesley snapped.
Zoe hesitated. “Are you OK?”
“Sorry.” Lesley put a hand on the door to Elsa's apartment block. “Just having a difficult time with my daughter. What can I do for you?”
“I've had a call,” Zoe said. “From a colleague of yours.”
Lesley turned away from the building. “Which colleague?”
“DS Frampton,” Zoe said.
“Dennis?” Lesley asked.
“He didn't give his first name. But are there many DS Framptons down there?”
“Only one in my team. What did he want?”
“He wanted to know why I've been looking at certain files,” Zoe replied.
Shit. “Did he say which files?”
“He asked me about Arthur Kelvin. I told him we were working on a link between him and Trevor Hamm.”
“Quick thinking,”
“It was a story I had ready,” Zoe said. “Just in case.”
Lesley moved away from the door and leaned against the wall of the apartment block. “Do you think he was suspicious of anything else?”
“No idea. But I thought you should be aware. Do you want me to leave things alone for a while?”
“I think that might be an idea,” Lesley said. “At least until I'm back at the office.”
“Back at the office?”
“I'm on a case that’s got me stuck on Brownsea Island. I can't keep my eye on my team, it makes me uneasy.”
Zoe laughed. “I don't recall you keeping much of an eye on us when you were in the West Midlands.”
“That was different,” Lesley told her. “I'd known you for years. I've only been with these people half a minute and I'm worried they know things they're not letting on.”
“Like what?”
“Like about DCI Mackie’s death. I'm convinced Dennis knows that Mackie didn't commit suicide. Gail Hansford suspects something too, she’s spoken to me about it.”
“Gail Hansford, she's the crime scene manager you told me about?”
“Yeah. She's good.”
“Not as good as Adi Hanson, I'll bet.”
Adi was one of the crime scene managers in West Midlands. He and Zoe were close.
Lesley laughed. “Nobody's as good as Adi Hanson. Well, actually, I think Gail might be better.”
“Better?” Zoe sounded incredulous.
Lesley felt air on her back. The door behind her was opening, two young men coming out. She gestured for them to hold the door for her.
“I've got to go, Zoe,” she said. “I need to deal with my daughter.”
“Good luck with that,” Zoe told her. “I sympathise.”
Lesley nodded. Zoe had her own son, a couple of years older than Sharon, going to university in September. She wondered whether life would get easier when Sharon reached that age.
She let the door bang closed behind her and hurried up the stairs, shoving her phone into her pocket. At the top, she paused to gather her breath and knocked on Elsa's front door. Elsa opened almost immediately. She smiled when she saw Lesley and stepped in to give her a hug.
“I've missed you,” she muttered into Lesley's ear.
Lesley leaned into Elsa, allowing her girlfriend to clutch her tightly. Peering over Elsa’s shoulder, she saw Sharon hovering nervously in the hallway.
She gave her daughter a smile. “Hey, Sharon. You OK?”
Sharon shrugged.
Lesley let go of Elsa and approached her daughter. She reached out for Sharon's hand, but Sharon shook her head and turned away. She walked through to the living room and threw herself onto the sofa. Lesley caught a grimace from Elsa.
Elsa went into the kitchen, rattling around in cupboards and trying to pretend she wasn't listening. Lesley took a seat at the other end of the sofa from Sharon and looked at her daughter. Sharon looked down at the coffee table.
“So that was very enterprising of you,” Lesley told Sharon. “Finding Elsa's flat when I wasn't at home in Wareham.”
Sharon shrugged. “You gave me the address, remember? I had a feeling you've been here more than you were at the cottage. So I came here. Glad I did.”
Sharon flicked a glance over towards Elsa. “She told me you weren't at home anyway. Stuck on some island.”
Lesley nodded. “Brownsea Island. There's been a murder there, but you don't need to know about that. What happened between you and your dad?”
Sharon's jaw clenched. “I'm sick of him, Mum. I'm sick of his bloody girlfriend.”
“Hey,” Lesley said. “None of that language.”
Sharon looked up. Her eyes were wet. “That's how you talk all the time.”
Lesley felt tension rise in her chest. “That doesn't mean it's how you should talk.”
And besides, she thought, I try to keep that language for work and not for home.
“So have you spoken to him since you got here?” she asked.
Sharon shook her head. “I couldn't see the point.”
“You can't stay at Elsa's forever.”
“Can't I go to your house in Wareham? It's the school holidays, there's no reason for me to be in Birmingham.”
“I don't want you alone there while I'm on Brownsea,” Lesley said.
“I can stay there, wait for you to come back. Or I can come over to the island with you if you want.”
“No way,” Lesley said. There was a killer on that island. “I want you to go home. Back to your dad. You're supposed to be with him at the moment. You’ll be coming back down here the week after next, for a week. I’ve booked time off work. Plenty of time for you and me to catch up. And give you a breather, away from Julieta and her son.”
“He's replacing me, Mum,” Sharon said. “He's got a new family and he doesn't give a toss about me.”
Lesley leaned forward. “He does, Sharon. I know he's got his own way of showing it, but he loves you. You know what your dad's like, he's almost as bad as me. Focused on his work, not very good at expressing emotion. We’re a pretty dysfunctional lot, aren't we?”
Elsa placed a glass of wine in front of Lesley and a Diet Coke next to Sharon. Sharon grunted thanks and picked the glass up.
“Have you two been getting on OK?” Lesley asked. “You haven't been getting in Elsa's way?”
“We’ve been fine,” Elsa said. “It's been nice getting to know her.”
Sharon looked up at Elsa and gave her a half smile. Lesley wondered how Sharon felt about both her parents finding new partners so soon. She'd hoped that Sharon and Elsa would get along. But at the same time, she didn't expect Elsa to be a second mum to Sharon. In truth, she'd expected their relationship to play out more slowly, and for the three of them not to be thrown together like this so soon.
“I'm going to check out trains to Birmingham tomorrow morning,” she said. “I want you on the first train out.”
“That'll be at the crack of dawn,” Sharon groaned.
“OK, maybe not the first. But I've got to get a boat back to Brownsea Island at half past eight.”
“Can't you get a later one?”
The Island Murders (Dorset Crime Book 3) Page 15