SHADOW CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  ‘Hi, Andrea, I nearly missed you, sitting in the shadows. You look as though you need cheering up. Can I get you another? Something stronger maybe?’ The speaker was a local accountant, a pale, slightly damp-faced middle-aged man with a developing paunch.

  Andrea forced a smile and opted for a brandy on the rocks. She really didn’t feel like conversation at the moment, not with Simon Osman anyway, but it wouldn’t be wise to refuse his offer. She needed all the allies she could muster and couldn’t afford to offend anyone who might help her right now. Not that Simon was likely to be of any direct use, but he might know someone who could get her out of her predicament.

  Simon reappeared a minute or two later and slid a glass across the table towards her.

  ‘This looks like a double,’ she said. ‘Are you planning to get me pissed?’

  ‘It had crossed my mind,’ he replied, smiling. ‘No, I thought you needed something to bring a bit of colour to your cheeks. You look a bit peaky. Had a bad day?’

  She gave him a thin smile. ‘You could say that. Stress at work. I won’t bore you with the details.’

  ‘You need to relax a bit and enjoy life. Do you want to come back to my place for a bit of, um, fun?’ He winked at her. ‘I don’t mean right now. We can take our time over these drinks.’

  That was the thing about Simon. So predictable. Always hopeful, believing every time that he was in with a chance, despite the regular rebuffs. She eyed him knowingly and leant forward so that he had a better view of her cleavage. ‘Why not? I’m not likely to get a better offer, am I? Not in this fucking waste of a town.’

  She noticed the surprised look on his face. He hadn’t bargained for that, had he? That’ll teach him! She finished her drink and he ordered another round.

  They left the bar three-quarters of an hour later, her arm linked through his. She was already planning how she might best use a little emotional blackmail on him during the coming days and forge some new alliances. Though she’d have to steel herself to get through a night with the flabby, pink and slightly damp financial consultant first. She tried to mask a shudder.

  Chapter 7: Furious Activity

  Tuesday

  Frustrated, Sophie slammed the receiver down. Oh, these constant budget cuts! She could rarely get in touch with the person she wanted at the time she wanted. This time it was Andrea Ford, clearly someone she needed to speak to. Apparently, she was out of contact. She wasn’t in the office, she wasn’t out on a routine operation, but nor was she answering her phone. Yet Andrea’s fellow CID officers didn’t seem unduly worried. It seemed that she’d been given a slightly maverick role in order to monitor local criminal activity, an initiative that apparently had paid off. Drug-dealing, extortion and pimping seemed to have been kept under control in the area, largely due to the information she supplied.

  Her overall boss, DCI Bruce Pitman, didn’t seem concerned that she was out of contact. ‘That’s the way she operates,’ he explained. ‘I’ll get her to contact you when she shows up, probably later today.’

  Sophie felt uneasy. Such a scheme was good on paper and, when it worked, it supplied useful intelligence. But it left the officer concerned highly vulnerable unless a well-organised support system was in place. That didn’t seem to be the case here. Everything seemed to be a bit lackadaisical. It hadn’t been the case with Lydia a few days earlier — she had Jimmy Melsom on standby and her unit boss unofficially dropped in to monitor events. Maybe a trip down to Weymouth was needed? She could check on procedures, particularly in light of her new role.

  She made her way along the corridor to her boss’s office. Detective Chief Superintendent Matt Silver was at his desk reading a set of Home Office documents when she entered with a mug of coffee for him.

  He looked up. ‘Perfect timing. My eyes were beginning to glaze over. What can I do for you?’

  Sophie explained her concerns. ‘Can I pay a visit to check it all out? Bruce Pitman doesn’t seem overly worried, but I’m very uneasy, particularly given the events of the weekend.’

  ‘Of course. I know we haven’t hammered out a complete role description for you yet, but this fits what we had in mind. Keep me informed, will you? I don’t like the sound of it either.’

  Sophie finished her own coffee, and left the building. It was only a twenty-minute drive to Weymouth, so she could be there and back by early afternoon.

  * * *

  ‘Detective Superintendent Sophie Allen.’

  My, that sounded impressive. Sophie smiled inwardly. It was if the receptionist had been given an electric shock. She sat up straighter and swallowed hard.

  ‘Right, ma’am. Who have you come to see? I can let them know you’re here.’

  ‘CID. Bruce Pitman if he’s here. If he’s not, anyone else will do. I also need to see Andrea Ford.’

  Sophie noticed the nervous flicker cross the receptionist’s face.

  ‘She’s not in yet, ma’am. We’ve been trying to contact her. I’ll call through to DI Pitman.’

  ‘Okay,’ Sophie replied. ‘I’ll head on up.’

  She decided not to hurry up the stairs, imagining the panic that would be rippling through the CID office as news of her arrival spread. The receptionist’s phone would be red-hot, as she scrambled to give the local unit a few precious seconds of warning. They’d all appear to be hard at work when Sophie walked through the doors in less than a minute’s time.

  And so it was. Sophie couldn’t help but smile, particularly at one young man who’d come out of the toilets just ahead of her. He entered the CID office and stood scratching his head in bemusement at the furious activity that greeted him. People were studying documents intently or energetically pressing keys on computer keyboards. At a desk near the doorway, Bruce Pitman seemed to be deep in conversation with his second in command and hadn’t spotted that the document he was holding was upside down. None of the room’s occupants were looking at her directly, but she could feel them all nervously watching her out of the corners of their eyes. Time to take the bull by the horns.

  ‘Morning, everyone. Morning, Bruce.’

  Bruce Pitman looked across, as if he’d only just spotted her. ‘Morning, ma’am,’ he replied. ‘This is a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe the honour?’

  ‘Shall we go into your office? There are a few things we need to discuss.’

  His expression and his exaggerated hand gesture, implying that she was just some fussy woman in need of humouring, angered Sophie. He indicated the open inner office door and led her through. No point in pulling any punches. ‘The murder of Tony Quigley up the road in Dorchester on Saturday. The link between him and Andrea Ford. The fact that she seems to have gone walkabout. Doesn’t any of that worry you?’

  Bruce Pitman was a big man, well over six feet tall and broad-chested. He stood too close to Sophie, looking down at her.

  ‘Andrea’s often late in on Monday and Tuesday mornings. It’s not something that overly concerns me. I told you that on the phone.’ He paused. ‘Ma’am.’

  ‘Don’t try to intimidate me, Bruce. It won’t work and it’s likely to have the opposite effect to the one you want.’

  He moved back and leaned against the desk but said nothing.

  ‘You also said that she wasn’t responding to phone calls, either to her home number or her mobile. How common is that?’

  ‘We haven’t had reason to call her before.’ Now his tone was sulky.

  ‘Where does she live? In Weymouth?’

  Pitman nodded.

  ‘I want to check on her right now. Give me someone who knows where she lives. It’ll only take a few minutes, and it will set my mind at rest. Who can you spare?’

  ‘Tommy Carter, maybe. He only lives a couple of blocks away from her flat.’

  ‘Well, get him sorted, Bruce. And stop being so resentful. If something has happened to her, I’ve probably saved your bacon by forcing the issue. Get Carter organised, will you? Because I want to go right now.’

 
* * *

  Tommy Carter was the bemused looking young man who’d walked into the CID office ahead of Sophie. He still looked preoccupied on their way down the stairs and out of the building. Sophie wondered if he ever showed anything other than puzzled bewilderment. At least he was dressed fairly smartly. He chatted amiably until he finally twigged that she was a superintendent, and then he fell into an embarrassed silence.

  They reached Andrea’s flat within a few minutes. Carter glanced around as they climbed out of their vehicle.

  ‘Can’t see her car anywhere,’ he said. ‘It’s a cream BMW convertible. Can’t miss it.’

  ‘Has she had it long?’ Sophie asked.

  He shrugged. ‘Maybe a couple of years? I think it was new about the same time as I joined CID here. We kidded her about it. You know, fast woman in a fast car.’

  Sophie sighed. ‘No, I don’t know. Why should a woman in a flashy sports car attract any more comments than a man in one? For God’s sake, we’re living in the twenty-first century. Anyway, what was her reaction to this teasing, as you call it?’

  Carter thought for a moment. ‘She seemed okay about it. She didn’t snap at us or anything. Well, not often.’

  ‘She’s the only woman in the unit. Maybe she just felt the best option was to grin and bear it. But just let me warn you, Detective Constable. You make any such patronising comments to a female officer under my command and I’ll have your guts for garters. Understood?’

  Carter looked crestfallen. ‘Sorry, ma’am.’

  There was no answer when they pressed the button on the entry intercom for the apartment, so Sophie tried a neighbouring flat, and talked her way in. Andrea’s flat was on the first floor, at the end of a short corridor. She rang the bell but there was still no response. She tried the door handle and found that the door opened at her touch. The lock showed no signs of damage. Why had the place been left unsecured? The reason became clear as soon as they entered. The contents of a small cupboard unit in the corner had been tipped out onto the floor.

  ‘Police,’ Sophie called loudly. ‘If there’s anyone here, come out now.’

  She reached into her bag and pulled out a Taser, Carter following suit. ‘We’ll do a quick search in case she’s here, but don’t touch anything.’

  The other rooms had also been hastily ransacked, with drawers upended and cupboards emptied, their contents strewn across the floor. There was no sign of Andrea.

  Sophie called the office they’d left just ten minutes earlier. She then made a phone call to Dave Nash asking for a forensic team to be sent down without delay.

  What had happened here? More importantly, where was Andrea Ford?

  Chapter 8: The Affair

  Tuesday Afternoon

  The forensic unit arrived quickly, having finished their work at Guys Marsh prison that morning.

  ‘You certainly know how to keep us busy, Sophie,’ was Dave Nash’s terse comment. ‘We could have done with a rest, but there’s obviously no chance of that with you around.’

  Sophie poked out her tongue at him, stood to one side and watched the team get to work. It was obvious that whoever had ransacked the flat had been thorough, even if it looked a mess. Every drawer and cupboard had been cleared, and most of the contents lay strewn haphazardly across carpets, rugs and work-surfaces. It looked very much as if there had been a purpose behind the break-in, a search for something. Maybe the culprits had been looking for incriminating evidence, something that could be used against them. The jumbled spread of items seemed to lead to that conclusion, suggesting a hurried scrabble through drawers and cupboards. Andrea’s jewellery, some of it obviously valuable, had been left untouched.

  Bruce Pitman arrived shortly afterwards. He’d been through Andrea’s work schedule for the last week, looking for possible leads as to her whereabouts. Nothing had showed up.

  ‘I’m gutted,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’

  Sophie looked at him, saw the haunted look in his eyes. ‘Was there something going on between the two of you? Was that why she was able to take such liberties? Own up, Bruce, because I need to know. This is no game, not any more. My guess is that she’s lying face down in the dirt somewhere, with a hole in the back of her head. So stop pissing me about and tell me.’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘We had a short fling last year. It was over months ago, but she was still using it to manipulate me. She threatened to tell Chrissie if I didn’t cut her some slack.’

  ‘That, of course, makes you a suspect, so you’re off this case immediately. I’ll get a formal statement from you later, but you need to be out of here. You’re suspended as of now, so go home and don’t try to get back into your offices. If you make any attempt to influence any of your team, I’ll have your guts. Give me your keys.’

  Without a word, Pitman handed them over and left. Sophie phoned Matt Silver to let him know what had happened.

  ‘Have we got someone who can take over from Pitman temporarily?’ she asked. ‘I want someone I can trust. No, wait. I’ll get his DS to take over but bring Barry Marsh down to keep an eye on things. He might get some useful nuggets about Andrea. I’ll float between here and Dorchester, because there’s an obvious link to Tony Quigley.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Matt said. ‘Expect me in about twenty minutes. I need to find out what’s been going on down there. Kevin’s been on the phone with some of his concerns about Andrea Ford. Can you make sure no one has a chance to remove any incriminating data from their network? It’s unlikely, but I’m worried in case there’s an insider. I’ll get a techie person down as soon as I can.’

  Sophie drove back to the local police station and hurried to the CID office, to be met with three anxious faces. It had finally sunk in that something serious had happened.

  ‘Listen, everyone. I want you all to log off your computers right now. Leave all official items on your desks, collect anything personal you need and leave the room. I suggest you wait in the canteen. Once a support team arrives from headquarters, you’ll be allowed back in and work will continue as normal. DI Pitman is off the case now, but he’ll be back once we’ve cleared this up. As of an hour ago, DC Andrea Ford is a missing person. Once we get up and running, tracing her whereabouts becomes our overriding priority, so think back over the last few days. Anything at all that might give us a clue as to her whereabouts will be vital. Go and get a cup of tea. It’s going to be a long day.’

  * * *

  First on the scene was Dorset police’s senior IT Technician, Ameera Khan. She froze all accounts and allocated temporary ones that allowed the local CID staff to get back to work. The enforced lock-out had lasted less than an hour but it meant that none of them had a chance to delete or alter any data held on the system. This was an unlikely possibility, but one that had to be faced. Ameera then mirrored all the network data onto a hard-drive unit. Particularly important were all recent documents, emails, calendars and logs relating to CID work. Checking would start immediately on her return to her facilities at county headquarters.

  ‘Can you check something for me as soon as possible?’ Sophie asked. ‘I need to know if any data was altered or deleted in the two hours before I arrived. Only files accessible to CID. Can you do that?’

  ‘Of course, ma’am. I can do it right now,’ Ameera said. ‘The server’s log file will show what you need. It records all activity.’

  She tapped a few keys and watched the screen fill with information.

  ‘Nothing was deleted. A few documents were open and being worked on. I can have a closer look at them later, but it doesn’t look as though anything suspicious happened.’

  ‘Do you mind if I send one of my team to give you a hand looking through Andrea’s stuff? Rae knows the kinds of things to look for. She’s still at HQ. I can tell her to meet you when you arrive back.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’ Ameera gathered all her equipment together and left.

  Matt Silver, Sophie’s boss, arrived shortly a
fterwards, closely followed by Barry Marsh. The three of them decided on priorities in the search for Andrea Ford. Sophie had the ominous feeling that the task would be a difficult one. The missing officer was in all likelihood already abroad, having seen the writing on the wall, or was dead. Sophie’s instincts opted for the latter, but she didn’t share her pessimism with the local officers. She drew the three remaining ones together for a briefing.

  ‘We want to know everything about Andrea,’ she told them. ‘Her private life, her family, her friends. How often she sees them. Secondly, her current work here in CID. What investigations is she involved with? Who does she meet? How often? Has she made enemies? Lastly, there’s her private social life. My understanding is that she’s a bit of a party animal. So, where did she go? Did she have some regular haunts? Who did she meet there? She still has her mobile phone with her, and I want an urgent check on her account. At least one of you must know her personal mobile number?’ One of them raised a hand. ‘Contact her service provider and get a record of all calls and texts, incoming and outgoing, for the past week. Barry’s going to be building up a timeline of her activities since Friday. Saturday seems to be key, because that’s when her behaviour became erratic. If you already remember anything that could be remotely useful, let him know now. I want all this done by the end of the afternoon, then we head out into the town and visit every likely bar, pub, restaurant, cafe and club to try and trace her movements. If you discover even a hint of her whereabouts during the weekend, let Barry know immediately. Her life may depend on us building up a picture and acting on it quickly.’