Your Life or Mine

by Vicki Bradley

  ‘What happened in the Czech Republic?’ Loxton asked. Pearce had come back clean. No arrests. What had they missed?

  ‘I got arrested six months ago in Prague.’ He shrugged at her. ‘I got into a fight.’

  ‘That’s not come through yet, but it will. Tell me about this fight.’

  Pearce looked crestfallen that he’d brought it up. ‘It was with my ex. It was a shit holiday. We were arguing, she was drinking too much. She was driving me mad. On the way to the hotel I pushed her and a local went ballistic, got the cops involved. I was arrested over nothing. They beat the crap out of me at the station. I thought I was going to die. And then they gave me a caution and we had to fly home. We broke up a few weeks later.’

  ‘Did you have a fight like that with Emma?’ Loxton asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  ‘No, nothing like that. Emma and me are great.’ Pearce kept eye contact with her.

  ‘When did you last see Emma?’ Loxton asked.

  ‘I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks. She’s been busy at work and with her mum.’

  ‘You don’t seem worried that she’s missing,’ Kowalski said.

  ‘Worried? Should I be? She’s independent, always doing what she likes.’ He shrugged at them. ‘She’s probably gone off with some of her girlfriends for a spa getaway or something like that. Half the time I can never get hold of her.’

  ‘She didn’t show up for work last night,’ Loxton said. ‘Does that sound like Emma to you?’

  ‘I don’t really know much about her work.’ He rubbed at his hand as if it was bothering him. Loxton noticed the knuckles on his left hand were grazed, as if he’d fallen over or been in a fight. ‘She didn’t like talking about work to me, although she always seemed to be there. Maybe she got pissed off with it and decided to have a break?’

  Loxton was appalled that Emma had been seeing this guy. Sure, he fit the picture of what Emma liked – big muscles, brown eyes, handsome – but Pearce had a temper and was impulsive. Had he hurt Emma?

  ‘Can you give me a list of her friends?’ Loxton asked.

  ‘Don’t you lot know? I only met a couple of them once. They were all police officers. I don’t remember their names. We’ve only been dating for a few months.’

  ‘Can you tell us what you’ve been doing since Saturday at around 10pm?’ Loxton asked.

  ‘Saturday? Christ. Well, I had a few beers with my mates in town. We were in Shoreditch, at the Bedlam bar at one point, after that it’s a bit of a blur. I got a night bus home, but I can’t remember what time – I was wasted. Sunday, I was hungover – the day was a complete write-off. Then Sunday evening I went down my local for a couple of beers. I was at work from 7am on Monday, out all day on deliveries. I finished quite late, past 7pm. I left the van at work and drove my car home. I grabbed a drive-through at McDonald’s and then drove back to my flat in Bromley. Then I walked to my local for more beers and then went home.’

  Loxton was amazed at the detail. As if it was rehearsed. Kowalski threw her a brief glance that told her he thought the same.

  ‘What time did you get home last night?’ she asked.

  ‘Just before 11pm. Got myself a bit of a hangover today, that’s why I was late in.’ He rubbed his eyes and sighed. ‘Look, I’m in the shit with the boss already. You guys haven’t exactly helped with that. Can I go now?’

  ‘How did you get the grazes on your knuckles?’

  He looked taken aback for a moment and gazed down at his hands, as if seeing the scratches for the first time. ‘Oh, that. I was loading the van yesterday and almost knocked a stack of boxes over. Ended up scraping my knuckles on the brick wall when I was stopping them from toppling over.’

  ‘Did anyone see you have this accident?’

  ‘No, I was in there on my own. But you can see it’s scabbed over, it’s an old graze.’ He held his hand out, as if that proved the injury was an accident and not caused by punching something with force.

  ‘Did you hit Emma? Is that how you got those injuries?’

  Pearce looked at his solicitor, shocked. ‘I told you, I scraped them on the wall. I haven’t seen Emma for a few weeks.’

  Loxton tried to contain her cold fury. This man may have wiped her friend out of existence. He could have reduced Emma to a memory. And when Emma’s mother was dead, when most of her colleagues had moved on, lost other people, forgotten their old friend, then Emma Robins wouldn’t even be a memory anymore.

  ‘Are you and Emma still together?’ Loxton thought of the torn photo in Emma’s flat.

  ‘Yes.’ Luke looked defensive, anger flashing in his eyes for a moment, but he managed to gain control of himself. ‘We’re just focusing on work, that’s all. And her mother got worse recently, dementia or something. Emma was talking about setting up carers. She was busy with that.’

  ‘Forensics are checking your flat and car. What do you think they’ll find?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s a waste of your time. My boss is going to do his nut with you lot swarming all over my car at work. He’ll already be pissed off that I got nicked there. And the neighbours are going to think I’m a criminal if you have people in forensic suits coming in and out of my flat.’

  ‘Let’s worry about your girlfriend being missing for now, shall we?’ Loxton said. ‘When did you last speak to Emma?’

  ‘I don’t know. She’d been so busy recently. A few days ago.’

  ‘Luke, we know Emma stopped calling a few weeks ago.’

  Pearce’s eyes darkened. ‘You’ve been checking my phone? Are you lot even allowed to do that? Okay, we had a few issues, a bit of a row a few weeks back. I told her she wasn’t putting enough effort into our relationship. But we were sorting it out.’

  ‘She hasn’t returned your calls for two weeks, Luke. That doesn’t sound like you were sorting it out.’

  He shook his head, waved his hand dismissively at her, as if he could brush her words aside. ‘All couples have problems. We were just going through a rocky patch. She just needed some time, that’s all.’

  ‘Why did you stop calling on Saturday night? The night it looks as if she went missing?’

  ‘Like I said, I was out with the lads on Saturday and then I had the hangover from hell. And I finally figured that Emma needed some space and time. I thought I’d wait for her to call me.’

  ‘Are you finished, officers?’ the solicitor said in his rich velvet voice. ‘I fear we’re about to start going around in circles and I’m sure you’re both very busy searching for this missing detective.’

  Kowalski nodded at Loxton. They weren’t going to get anything else out of Pearce. He was sticking to his story, refusing to budge.

  ‘We’re done for now; I’m terminating this interview.’ Kowalski hit the stop button on the digital recorder. ‘But he’ll have to stay in until we have the results back from the forensic team.’

  Loxton didn’t know if Pearce was responsible for Emma’s disappearance, but she didn’t like the way he talked about her in the past tense.

  Chapter 6

  Tuesday 25 January, 19:20

  Loxton tried not to feel disheartened as she walked back into Walworth CID office with a sandwich she’d grabbed from the local Tesco while they waited for Pearce’s record from Prague to come through.

  The samples from Pearce’s flat had been traces of his own blood, nothing significant. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated. She didn’t like him, though, or the way he’d tried to make off when they’d gone to speak to him. He had an aggressive impulsive streak and she prayed Emma hadn’t been on the receiving end of it.

  Loxton felt tired and hungry as she went over to Kowalski’s desk. He was tucking into a Big Mac.

  ‘How are you not overweight?’ she asked, pulling open the wrapper on her chicken salad sandwich. The noise of the CID office washed over her as the detectives around her worked through dinner.

  ‘The gym,’ he said, and took another bite out of his burger.


  ‘What’s that?’ she asked, pointing at an unopened letter sat on his desk.

  He glanced at it, as if noticing it for the first time. ‘Just some post I hadn’t picked up yet. They were moaning at me to get it.’

  ‘It could be important,’ Loxton said. ‘Maybe about the case.’ She tucked into her sandwich.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Kowalski said. ‘It’s from HR. Probably some training I haven’t done.’ He rolled his eyes but then saw the look of concern on her face.

  ‘All right, I’ll open it.’ He wiped his fingers on a napkin and ripped open the letter. He scanned it quickly and swallowed once, his eyes full of surprise.

  ‘Problem?’ She nodded towards the letter.

  ‘No… no problem.’ He looked up at her. ‘I got the sergeant’s promotion.’

  ‘That’s great news.’ She smiled, pleased. She hadn’t known he’d applied.

  ‘I’ve got to put down my five choices for boroughs I’d like to work on, but it says nothing’s guaranteed.’ He avoided looking at her, studying the letter instead. ‘I’m not allowed to put Southwark down. They’ve got enough detective sergeants here.’

  Loxton’s throat tightened and she didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead she nodded, then sipped some water. She couldn’t imagine not working with Kowalski, even though they’d only been partners for a few months. She felt sadness rise inside her at the thought of him leaving.

  ‘Well done, Dominik. You’ll be a great sergeant.’ She’d always thought that by the time she’d hit thirty she’d have been promoted, but her career had taken a painful nosedive thanks to Saunders, and she didn’t know when it was going to get back on track. Now, on top of all that, she was going to lose Kowalski.

  ‘The Czech police have sent over what they have of Pearce’s arrest in Prague,’ Lena called to them as she headed over.

  Kowalski glanced at his screen and Loxton saw the email was in his inbox. He looked relieved to have a distraction and clicked on it. ‘They’ve attached CCTV footage.’

  Lena joined them, a notepad and pen ready in her hands. They all instinctively leaned nearer to Kowalski’s screen as he clicked on the video attachment. A grainy, black-and-white image played of a woman walking down the road, obviously intoxicated. It was night, the streetlamps throwing an eerie grey light over the scene. The woman kept turning around to shout at a man who was following her. It was Pearce. He walked with purpose as she stumbled onwards. She waved her arms in the air, seemingly exasperated, and staggered along the deserted pavement. He didn’t say a word back.

  At her next shout, however, he rushed forward, throwing a punch into her face. She toppled backwards, landing on the floor hard as her legs gave way.

  Pearce checked left and right and then dragged her up by her throat, walking her backwards into the doorway of a closed shop where he punched her again and again on the side of her head. She could barely stand up now, her arms flailing as she tried to ward off his blows. Loxton felt sick and put her hand over her mouth.

  Another punch and she seemed to lose consciousness, her head lolling forward, and then Pearce’s attention was drawn away. A man was running towards them, shouting. Pearce let go of the woman’s neck, putting his hands up in a gesture of innocence. The woman had slumped to the ground. The men argued. Moments later, white strobing lights appeared and the police pulled up.

  Loxton’s stomach twisted and she gripped the table edge hard to steady herself. How had Emma fallen for this man? Then again, she thought, Loxton had believed every lie Alec Saunders had told her.

  Loxton closed her eyes, willing away the image of the woman being savagely beaten in Prague, but it played on repeat in her head. The rage rose in her like an illness, all-consuming. At least Barratt had attacked strangers; Pearce attacked the women he was meant to care for and love. There was something much darker about a loved one turning on you, the person who was meant to support and protect you, destroying everything you had believed in.

  ‘This changes things,’ Lena said. ‘Pearce is definitely capable of hurting DC Robins. In fact, I’d say it’s likely that he has. Perhaps he went too far this time?’

  ‘We need to charge him,’ Loxton said.

  ‘Charge him with what?’ Kowalski turned to look up at her. ‘There’s just no evidence. It’s not enough that he’s her ex-boyfriend and was violent to a girlfriend in the past. His flat and car have come back clean. There’s nothing to suggest he’s ever threatened Emma or that he was the last person with her. At the moment that’s you, Alana. Pearce is claiming he hasn’t seen her for a couple of weeks and we’ve got nothing to prove him wrong. Absolutely nothing. Not a single CCTV frame, text message or a witness who might have seen him with her in the last few weeks.’ Kowalski shook his head in annoyance.

  ‘Well, then we need to look harder,’ Loxton snapped.

  ‘He’s given us an alibi for the days when Emma might have gone missing that we need to check out,’ Kowalski said. ‘And if Pearce and Emma had an altercation, maybe she’s gone off on her own to get away from him. To think.’

  ‘She would have told me if she was just going away,’ Loxton said, although Emma hadn’t told her about Pearce, or the anti-depressant pills. ‘There’ve been no transactions on her bank cards, no calls on her mobile. She didn’t show up to work and she’s not at her home. The non-police friends that we’ve got hold of don’t know where she is either. Her mother’s care home has confirmed she hasn’t visited her mother since Friday. Something’s happened to her. Look at him.’ She pointed at the screen, her voice rising, but she didn’t care. ‘He’s an animal.’

  ‘This is concerning,’ Lena said, looking worried.

  ‘We need something more and we don’t have it right now.’ Kowalski looked sadder than Loxton had ever seen him. ‘We’ll keep looking. We’ll find her. We just can’t lose faith, okay?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Loxton said. ‘I don’t mean to shout at you. She was my friend.’

  ‘I know she was.’ Kowalski squeezed her shoulder. ‘I know.’

  Loxton dropped her gaze. She’d used the past tense, and neither Kowalski nor Lena had corrected her.

  Chapter 7

  Tuesday 25 January, 22:50

  Loxton knew she should try to catch a few hours’ sleep, but she couldn’t still her racing mind. She hated the fact that they’d had to bail Pearce. His alibis had backed up his account to an extent, but when he’d got off the night bus on Saturday night at 11pm he could have gone anywhere. She turned on the news for something to break the silence and her own thoughts.

  Photographs of Emma smiling brightly into the camera flashed onto the screen as the news reporter explained she’d been missing since Saturday night. The presenter talked about a dedicated officer, whose family was desperate to get her back. Loxton felt the tears rolling down her cheeks and wiped them away with her shaking hands. What use was crying? It wasn’t going to help Emma.

  She was jolted out of her thoughts by her mobile ringing. She tried to calm her breathing before answering, her voice a croak. ‘Jane?’

  ‘Are you watching the news? I can’t believe Emma’s really missing. I thought she would have turned up by now.’

  ‘I can’t believe it’s happening either.’ Loxton tried to keep her voice steady.

  ‘God, we were only with her on Saturday evening. I just keep thinking of Emma’s mother. What’s the latest?’

  Loxton hesitated, not trusting herself to speak for a moment. Once she felt her voice was under control, she answered. ‘It might be the ex, but I’m not sure. I’ve got a bad feeling about this one, Jane.’

  There was the noise of a baby crying and a child screaming ‘Mummy!’

  ‘Just a minute, sweetheart. Why are you out of bed? A bad feeling, Alana? You know I don’t like your bad feelings.’ Jane was struggling to keep the anxiety out of her own voice.

  ‘I don’t know, ignore me.’ The cries for ‘Mummy’ intensified and Loxton added, ‘Sounds like you’ve got your hands ful
l.’

  ‘You’re right. Look, I’d better go. Give everyone my love at work. And keep me updated, will you? I know I’m on maternity leave, but I want to know what’s going on. If I think of anything, I’ll call you.’

  ‘Please do. And, Jane…’ Loxton paused. She didn’t want to say it, but she couldn’t not. ‘Be careful, just in case this is Barratt.’

  The baby’s cries rose to a steady wail. ‘Shit,’ Jane said. ‘Do you really think this could be something to do with the murder team and Barratt?’

  ‘Mummy, you swore,’ a little voice complained.

  ‘Aaron, go back to bed, it’s late. Now.’ Jane’s voice was low and menacing. Loxton heard the mumbled complaint grow fainter.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Loxton said. ‘There’s nothing leaping out, except his recent escape attempt, but I just have this bad feeling.’

  ‘Well, I’ve always trusted your bad feelings, as much as I don’t like them. It’s okay, darling, Mummy’s here. I’ll talk to Ben. We’re due a holiday, and I fancy getting away for a few weeks.’

  ‘Great, and take care of yourself.’ Loxton felt some of the tightness from her shoulders release.

  ‘You too.’ It sounded like Jane was cradling the mobile between her head and shoulder. She would be holding little Joseph in her arms, trying to calm him.

  The phone rang out. She stared at it for a moment and then called Sarah. After a few minutes, it clicked through to her voicemail.

  ‘It’s Alana. I know you’re busy, but give me a call as soon as you can.’

  Pearce was right, it was difficult to get hold of police officers when you needed to. In this instance it was probably for the best, though. She didn’t want to ruin Sarah’s sleep. She would call her again first thing in the morning. She felt a need to keep tabs on her old team, to make sure they were safe.

  She placed her mobile on the coffee table as the news presenter talked about police efforts, saying that everything was being thrown into the investigation. She felt overwhelmingly tired but at the same time jittery and she knew she’d struggle to sleep tonight. She wanted to go for a run, to shake off the stress, but it was dark and she didn’t want to risk it.