‘It isn’t. You’re off duty, supposed to be relaxing and the next thing you know your phone goes off and you’re dragged into this world of someone else’s misery. Can you imagine how someone can get to the point where they can throw themselves off a viaduct? I guess some of that has to rub off on you.’
‘Of course it does. Bugger it, Shaun, just come off the rota. It doesn’t have to be forever. You don’t have to quit completely. Just tell them that you’ve had a rough couple of weeks and you need a break. There should be something in place for that. They should look after you when you have a bad call.’
‘They should. I think they would if I asked.’
‘Do that then. What are you on today? I saw the car, is that a police car?’
Shaun took a second, then remembered that he was in the Vectra. Jess must have seen him park on the cameras. The camera feed was on a monitor visible from her desk.
‘Yeah. We’re doing a bit of plain clothes stuff, a reccy for a warrant they want us to do at some point next week. It’s not far from here — I thought I would come down and have a cuppa if I could.’
‘I can spare a teabag, I’m sure.’
Jess led the way back out into the office. They crossed the floor, Shaun was again aware that he seemed to be the centre of attention. He checked his watch — he didn’t have much time. Jess led him through to a canteen area. There was an urn that brought itself noisily back to the boil as they approached.
‘So, I reckon we should have a sit-down meeting. I can represent the police and maybe you and whoever is responsible for your intelligence down here.’
‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I’ve always said we need to be more transparent. Bad guys are bad guys, right?’
‘Can’t argue with that. Who is that?’
Shaun had been speaking to Jess’s back as she busied herself with making the tea.
‘Who, the bad guys?’
Shaun smiled, he did his best to make it look natural. ‘No, your intel officer down here?’
‘Intel officer. You make it sound so grand. We’re the poor relation down here, I’m afraid. The majority of the intelligence either comes from or goes through the counter terrorism unit, the police, the NCA or the French. We get fed the scraps, the stuff we might need to know, and that comes through at the last minute. Very much like the information from you yesterday. I have an admin clerk who sorts through what we get and what we can generate. She’s been responsible for some pretty impressive stops recently though, she seems to have a real nose for a shitbag.’
‘I remember you saying you’d had some good wins.’
‘We have. Drugs seem to be her thing. If she marks it up, you can almost guarantee it’ll have something on it. She’s had very few misses.’
‘Did she mark up the lorry I told you about?’
Jess didn’t answer immediately. She seemed to be studying him again. He knew her well enough to know she was sharp and she was smart. He couldn’t be direct, but he had to get the information he needed.
‘Yeah, actually. But only because it stood out that it was travelling on its own. She had some stats that show they don’t generally do that. I guess we missed another good drugs job then did we?’
‘I think you probably did yeah. It doesn’t count as a miss if you’re asked to look the other way though does it!’
‘I wouldn’t do it again, Shaun. I take it you stopped it then?’
‘No, actually. We didn’t. That’s the reason we need to be sorting this meeting out. Who is your intel officer? Is she here today? I can explain to her in person what went on.’ Shaun would need her on her own. He didn’t quite know how he was going to do that yet but, first things first, he needed to find out who she was.
Jess put two teas down on the table. Shaun scooped one straight up. Jess looked thoughtful. ‘She’s not here today. She called in sick for this afternoon — first time since she started.’
Shaun gritted his teeth, he hoped it was disguised behind his mug.
‘I think she’s got a bit of a family issue. Alice, her name is. She asked about you, actually, when she called in.’
‘Me?’ Shaun was still trying to force natural. His mind was in turmoil, the pressure threatening to drop him to his knees. He pulled at a chair to sit.
‘Are you okay, Shaun?’
‘I’m fine, Jess! Really. We haven’t met, have we? Me and this Alice?’
‘No. It’s her sister, you see. She’s dating this bloke. The way Alice talks about him he’s a nasty piece of work. I think he’s been regularly beating on her sister. Today she calls in sick, but I could tell something was up so I pushed her a little bit and she broke pretty easy. Basically, her sister turned up all bruised and upset — out of the blue I think. They hadn’t spoken for a while.’
‘And she wants me to help? I might be able to.’
‘Yeah. Sort of. I wasn’t sure whether I should talk to you about it or not, but seeing as you turn up a couple of minutes after I put the phone down . . . well maybe it’s some sort of sign, right? She’s a good kid. I imagine her sister’s the same.’
‘Does she want me to pop up and see her? Maybe get this arsehole in custody? I could spare a couple of the lads to take him in.’
‘No! Sorry, no, that wasn’t the idea at all. Her sister was really adamant that she didn’t want the police involved. She’s desperate, she just wanted advice on what she could do. It was me that suggested talking to you actually — then I changed my mind. I reckoned that once you knew about it you might have to do something. The last thing I want is you going up there and hauling the boyfriend in and me causing more grief.’
‘Sounds like something needs to happen.’
‘I agree.’
‘Are they in danger?’
‘No. That’s why Alice is staying off. Her sister is staying with her. I don’t think this boyfriend will know where she lives.’
‘Okay. You know, thinking on it, this sort of thing happens a lot. We have specially trained officers, they go out in plain clothes and they act just like a mate if the bloke is around or turns up. They sort of insert themselves into the victim’s life a little bit, but not so anyone would know they were police. Then, over time, they build evidence, give advice to the victim and come up with an exit strategy. It works really well. Sounds like it might be perfect for your mate.’
Jess nodded, with a pinch of enthusiasm. ‘That does sound like it might be of benefit.’
‘Okay. Well, listen, I’ve got to get back to work but scribble down her details, where she’s staying and that, and I’ll pass it on to the relevant team. I’ll get someone up there as soon as possible.’
‘I don’t know, Shaun, she was pretty insistent that I didn’t tell you.’
‘These officers, they’re used to a bit of resistance. She’ll thank you in the long run.’
Jess had to leave the room for a pen and paper. Shaun exhaled long and loud. He felt so weak, so exhausted. He could hardly remember a time before he didn’t have this nervous tension that was draining every ounce of energy. He didn’t like lying to Jess either. He’d have to make it right.
She came back with a handwritten name, address and telephone number on a piece of paper.
‘Thanks, Shaun,’ she said. She leant in for a kiss and her hand moved round to the back of his head. She pulled it away quickly.
‘Jeez, Shaun, you’re absolutely covered in sweat! You’re not okay. You need to get yourself home.’
‘I know that, Jess. I think it’s just a bit of shock coming out late. Seeing that bloke go over the edge. I’ll head back in, I think, and get home for some rest. I can make my excuses — the boys can handle a reccy without me.’
Jess nodded. She held him by the shoulder, leaning forward to look deep into his eyes. ‘Promise me you’ll do that. I’ll come up and see you tonight after work, yeah?’ She smiled. ‘See if I can’t make you forget about the last few days.’
Even in a moment when his body was nearly
consumed by stress, he still wanted her badly. He smiled back, and this time it was more natural. That did sound good. God, he hoped this was all over by then.
Shaun made it back to the car. The nervous tension returned in a deluge and he fumbled to unlock his smartphone. He pulled the folded-up piece of paper out of his pocket and squinted at the handwritten address. Struggling to hold the phone still enough, he typed it into MAPS. The phone found the location instantly.
It was eighteen minutes away.
Chapter 23
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ Becks peered at the façade of the house her sister had been renting with her fiancé for the last two months. It was a bungalow, drastically modernised to the point where it had a gleaming white front, a new grey roof that sat on top like in a perfect pyramid and a newly laid driveway with stainless steel lights along its edge. Small, but perfectly formed. It was tucked out of the way in the village of St Margaret’s between Dover and Deal. A largely desirable place to live, it was mainly occupied by the older generation, the only group of people that could afford the premium prices.
‘Of course I don’t mind. We have a spare room and Dean will be cool. He knows that you’ve been having issues, he said you could stay here if you ever needed to.’
‘Seems like everyone saw this coming but me.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up, Becks. I think you’ve had enough of that. We’ll have a cup of tea and then I’ll need to move some stuff out of your room. But it’s good to go. Just stuff we haven’t had the chance to unpack yet.’
‘Great. But talk to Dean first. Make sure you tell him that this is a choice, I’m not imposing on anyone.’
‘You’re right, you’re not! There is an alternative of course. You can go back home to mum’s. And with that face! If you want all those questions and told-you-sos, you be my guest.’
‘No offence taken! You make a good point. Right then, if Dean says I can’t stay I’ll kick his arse!’
‘Sorted. We’ll soon see him anyway. He’s on a day off today.’
Becks pushed the car door open but she turned back to Alice and lingered.
‘What?’ Alice said.
‘Thanks, sis. For this I mean. For all this. I should have listened to you — I feel like such an idiot.’
Alice smiled warmly. ‘Yeah you should, but that doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. You don’t deserve this, Becks. We’ll make it all better.’ Becks leant over and the girls hugged each other tight.
‘Let’s get you settled in.’
The girls stepped out of the car. Alice had her key out, she levelled it at the front door lock and froze.
‘What’s up?’ Becks said. She was a couple of paces back and watched her sister push the front door. It swung open and Alice scowled in confusion back at Becks before stepping in.
‘Dean?’ Alice called out. ‘Dean! You home?’
The only answer was silence.
The front door led into a tight hallway where there were doors off to the left and one directly in front — all were closed. Becks followed her sister in, stepping over trainers she assumed were Dean’s.
‘Maybe he’s asleep?
‘He’d better not be!’ Alice smiled back tensely. She moved further into the hall and pushed the first door open on the left side. She leant in, then re-emerged shaking her head to continue down the hallway. She left the door open. Becks walked past. It was a bedroom — very neat and tidy, the pillows arranged just so. And undisturbed.
‘DEAN?’ Alice called out again. She was standing at the door at the end of the corridor that Becks reckoned was the bathroom. No response. She turned right, to where the house opened up — then she stopped. Becks could tell there was something wrong.
‘What’s the matter?’ She bustled forward, pushed past her sister, into the open-plan kitchen. The units were a modern white finish, but the tall one directly in front of her was smeared with red. The floor had red stains too, some of it in a fan-like pattern as if someone had slipped in the mess. There was a small island that stood in the middle and the red was pooled thick at its base. Becks knew it was blood — a lot of it — and not just from what she could see; the metallic scent of blood hung in the air, unmistakable. She could almost taste it. She took a sharp intake of breath and she could feel her sister pushing lightly into her back.
‘Dean?’ Her sister said, almost whispered. ‘Where’s Dean?’
Becks had a feeling she knew where he might be. She stepped forward slowly, holding her breath as she was able to see more of what was behind the island. A hand, palm up on the white tiles, blood on the fingers, darker under the nails. She moved a little more, the arm that it was attached to hung limp next to a body propped up against the island, facing directly away.
Becks stepped back, colliding with her sister. ‘Alice, call the ambulance. Don’t look, love — there’s no need. Just call the police!’
‘What, Becks? What?’ Alice pushed past. Becks made a half-hearted grab at her hips to stop her but her sister brushed it off. Alice’s face contorted, a picture of anguish. Her hands rose to her face. Her scream was long, and ended with inconsolable sobs. She dropped to her knees, Dean’s unmoving eyes seemed to look beyond her as she slapped his face and shook him by his shoulders.
‘Dean! DEAN! WAKE UP DEAN!’ Becks tried to get hold of Alice under her shoulders to pull her away. She shook her off. ‘No, No, No, NO!’ Becks gave up, she backed away, her own tears starting as she took in her distraught sister with her dead fiancé in the blood-soaked kitchen.
Movement. Her periphery and to her left. There was no time to turn before the first blow struck. Hard and to her left side. Becks stumbled — she felt like she had been punched, the wind forced from her body. She couldn’t catch her breath. Another punch. Her legs buckled and she was on the floor, she put her hands up, a dark blur loomed over her. Another blow, her hands took some of the impact but she felt a sharp pain in her neck. Her hands suddenly dripped blood, her side now excruciating. She could hear Alice calling her name over and over. She sounded upset but it was getting quieter, just like the pain was going, drifting away. She felt a blow to her chest but it was distant, like it might have been happening to someone else. She needed to rest now. It was overwhelming.
She closed her eyes to the chaos.
* * *
George had killed the sirens but the grill lights still flashed an urgent blue. He pulled the car up in a service bay opposite the immigration building at Dover’s port. A line of HGVs rumbled past and he had to wait for a gap to cross. A woman in an immigration officer’s uniform stepped out of the office to meet him. She wore her brown hair tied back in a long ponytail and her eyes were wide and questioning. George guessed this was Jess.
‘Hey. I’m Detective Sergeant George Elms. I spoke to Shaun Carter earlier. He asked me to meet him here.’
She looked him up and down. ‘He left. Maybe ten minutes ago.’
‘Did he say where he was going?’
‘I assume he would have told you that. Seeing as he was planning to meet you.’
‘Can we have a quick chat? Maybe somewhere a little quieter. There may be some things you need to be aware of.’
The door closed behind him as he walked into the immigration office and the roar of the busy port was replaced by low conversations on phones and the tapping of keyboards. A few people turned around to look at him. Most didn’t. Jess led him across the floor to an office. She showed him in, then pushed the door shut behind him. He was invited to sit.
‘What’s going on? Is Shaun in trouble?’
‘Of sorts. I think he has been targeted by criminals. Shaun has been seen as someone that can help them out in some way. I think you’re part of that.’
‘What?’ Jess gaped and looked incredulous. ‘Me? How?’
‘Shaun called you yesterday and asked you to assist with a lorry getting through your checks.’
‘He did yeah. You lot had some intelligence around it and he was
concerned that we didn’t have enough people down here to deal with it if we did stop it. He didn’t say what the intelligence was.’
‘From what I can tell, Jess, there was no intelligence. That was a lie so you would let the lorry through without asking him too many questions.’
Jess flopped in a chair opposite to where he himself had sat. ‘Jesus Christ! What . . . you think someone has got to him? I know Shaun. He wouldn’t work with criminals — not for anything. Are you sure about all this?’
‘Pretty sure, yeah. We all have our weaknesses, Jess — that something in our lives that we would do anything to protect. Have you any idea what they might be in Shaun’s case?’
‘He has a son.’ Jess looked at him with frightened eyes. ‘You don’t think his son’s in any danger do you?’
George shook his head. ‘I don’t think so Jess. But until I’ve been able to find out exactly what’s going on we shouldn’t rule out people close to him being threatened with harm. That includes you, Jess.’
‘Me? We hardly know each other. I mean in the grand scheme of things . . . It’s a casual thing, you know? He’s quite a distant bloke. I don’t see him helping out criminals for my sake.’
‘That may be true, Jess, but just be aware. These criminals . . . It’s likely that they know about you. They knew that Shaun would be able to get that lorry through, so they must know about his link with you.’
‘We’re no secret. Never had to be. My picture on Facebook is me and him dicking around on a canal boat.’
‘And why not? You’ve not done anything wrong. I don’t know too much more. I’m trying to piece it together and I’m trying to keep Shaun out of trouble as best I can. You’re sure he didn’t say where he was going?’
‘No. I got the impression he was going to call it a day, knock off work and go home.’
‘He’s not going home Jess. So where do you think he was going?’
‘I don’t know! I really don’t know. This is all out of the blue. I could tell he was upset. I should have asked him more about it all.’
‘Not at all. How could you have known? What did you talk about?’
The George Elms Trilogy Box Set Page 17