She dropped wedges of lemon into the ice and then squeezed one wedge over everything.
Restless, Jack stood up again and walked over to the kitchen counter where she was working. ‘I feel helpless.’
She leaned over and touched his hand that was resting on the dark green granite bench-top. ‘That’s not just you, Jack, that’s every DCI working a murder operation. I’ve spoken to enough officers to know that all of you, at some stage, feel helpless. And then something gives and there’s a glimmer of light. You’re understandably experiencing additional pressure because of your relationship with the latest victim. Jack, you have to allow yourself a little slack now and then.’
He looked at the small, slim hand covering his, and felt its warmth and softness threaten to unravel all that he’d been holding together so tightly. She may not have noticed his glance and his hesitation, but she moved her hand almost as quickly as she’d placed it there.
‘Cheers,’ she said.
He raised his soda, its ice clinking against the heavy glass of the tumbler, and touched it to hers. ‘To happy endings.’
Jane walked around the bench and he found himself instantly too close to her, especially so soon after that brief but intimate moment he’d deliberately let go. He could see she felt it too. Guilt over Lily raged against his need for just a moment of escape from the grief; a moment of affection to allay his anger.
‘Would you like to sit down, Jack?’ Jane no longer sounded quite so confident or breezy. There was a thickness in her voice, anticipation in her tone. More than anything, Jack sensed a question hanging over them.
Should he answer it … or ignore its existence?
Jack put his glass down next to hers and in the pause that followed he knew that the last thing Jane Brooks wanted to do right now was sit down and talk about Lily’s death. Frankly, neither did he want to — at this moment — rehash how it felt to lose Lily, or discuss previous cases, or rake over the reasons Jack was feeling so kicked in the guts.
He looked at her directly and answered. ‘Not really. I’d prefer to simply hold you.’
She didn’t overreact and she certainly didn’t look taken aback by his response. Perhaps it was the professional in her kicking into gear, although the way her eyes widened ever so slightly and a smudge of colour flared at her cheeks gave him an inkling that Dr Brooks needed to hold him just as badly.
‘Would it help?’ she asked in a surprisingly calm voice.
‘I’m sure it would.’
‘It’s not in the psychiatrist’s book of rules, of course.’
‘I’ve never lived by the rules,’ Jack said, refusing to engage in any more banter and instead reaching for her and pulling her close.
She didn’t resist him; in fact her arms were around his neck as tightly as his encircled her delicate frame.
They said nothing for a long time, until Jack, putting his cheek against hers, uttered the truth: ‘I think I’ve wanted to do that since I first met you.’
She smiled, this time self-consciously. ‘This is very wrong of me, Jack. Please forgive me.’ She pulled her arms away from him and leaned her elbows on the bench, so she was no longer touching him. ‘I should terminate our meeting right now.’ She looked down, and he could see how upset she was.
Jack raised her chin. ‘You did nothing. I did it. I’m the needy one.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s odd, I have a lot of friends but the only person I could rely upon to give me a comforting hug without consequences is my sister — and she’s 10,000 miles away.’
Dr Brooks shook her head sadly. ‘You’d be surprised about my neediness.’
He stood back, frowning, but took her hand. ‘How unhappy are you?’
‘Does it show that much?’
‘You cover it well.’
‘Well, to answer your question I hate the pretence that my life has become.’ He waited. ‘I’m married in name only. We’re strangers otherwise; have been for so many years I’ve lost count of the anniversaries we’ve not bothered to celebrate.’
‘I hope you’ve had affairs, then, because no one as bright and lovely as you should go without love.’
She seemed awkward for the first time in his company. ‘There haven’t been any affairs,’ she said quietly. ‘You were nearly my first.’
‘Why no men?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t think I have the stamina for what it takes, to be honest. Finding a man is easy enough, I’m sure, but finding a decent man is hard work and I’m not a one-night stand kind of person. If it happened that way, it would be all right — but what I mean is, I couldn’t go out searching for someone simply to have sex.’ She forced a laugh. ‘I’m a bit old-fashioned, I suppose. I need things to be meaningful, even a one-night-only event. Does that sound crazy?’
He shook his head. ‘Not at all. I’m pretty convinced most women of your age and standing in life feel the same. I think I feel that way too.’
‘Really?’
The question surprised him slightly. He tipped his head to one side as he regarded her. ‘Don’t be so astonished. Meaningless sex leaves me cold and one-night stands tend to make me feel hollow the next morning, especially when I know I’ve got absolutely no intention of seeing her again. I gave those up years ago.’
‘I think I already knew that about you.’
He pulled further away. ‘I should go. Would you like me to leave?’
She looked up at him now and shook her head. ‘Definitely not, although you probably should. We should both stop right now, except I want you to kiss me … but I don’t want to hurt you, or make you feel guilty, Jack.’
‘Are you sure, Jane?’
‘I’ve never been more sure about anything,’ she said firmly. ‘But Jack, you’re the one who needs to be sure. I want this for purely selfish reasons of need, desire, lust, longing … call it what you will. I have no demon to answer to. You will, though. In fact —’
She didn’t finish whatever she was going to say because Jack stopped her with a kiss. Jane’s arms were back around his neck, and he pulled her close feeling her slender, toned body against his. Finally parting, they rested their foreheads together as he stroked her silky dark hair.
Jane laughed softly, embarrassment and delight playing across her elegant features.
‘Now that’s what I call therapy,’ Jack murmured. ‘Exactly what I needed this evening.’
‘Me too — and I apologise right now for the guilt you’ll feel later,’ she admitted. ‘Jack, I can’t remember when I was last kissed like that.’
‘You should always be kissed like that.’ Their lips found each other again; his tongue tenderly, softly exploring her mouth, resisting the urge to crush himself against her to alleviate his pain. He could feel shame and anger rising inside him, and sadness too that threatened to engulf him.
She was too intelligent not to sense it. ‘It’s okay. Jack,’ she said, pulling away to caress his face. ‘I understand what’s driving this. I don’t expect you to need me or love me. I’m happy to be your release valve because it helps me too.’
Jack’s expression turned uncertain. ‘I don’t want to use you. I feel so much for you. But right now I —’ His phone rang. He looked torn.
‘You’d better get that,’ she said.
He reached into his pocket and fished out the mobile, feeling the ache of desire demanding to be answered and yet none of his guilt dissipating. How could he do this so soon after Lily’s death? He hated himself in that moment as he glanced at the screen. It was Geoff’s number.
He pushed it back into his pocket. ‘Let it go to voicemail. It’s just a friend.’
They stared at each other, the tension taut between them.
‘Jack,’ she began gently.
But he shook his head. ‘Don’t,’ he cautioned. ‘I want to … need to.’
She smiled crookedly. ‘So do I. I’ve always wanted to be carried to my bedroom by a tall, dark and handsome man.’
‘Is that your fantasy?’
‘It’s every woman’s fantasy, Jack Hawksworth. You don’t know how many dreams you could answer.’
He lifted her effortlessly. They moved across the room and Jack ignored the beep in his pocket that told him a voice message had just arrived. ‘Am I meant to kick down the door as well? Is that part of the fantasy?’
‘Hmmm, no,’ she said, reaching down to press on the handle. ‘Nor do I need to be flung down on the bed.’
‘Might throw out the neck, you mean?’
They both began to laugh, alleviating the tension, the guilt, ready now to take the next step, tugging eagerly at each other’s clothing. Jane giggled as Jack struggled with her unco-operative shirt fastening.
‘They’re press-studs, you just rip them!’ she urged.
As he did so, revealing her small full breasts, so lusciously inviting, his phone began ringing again.
She gave a sigh of resignation and he groaned as she gently pushed him away. ‘That phone gets answered before this,’ she said, and he could see she was desperately trying to help him to be responsible.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. Answer it.’
He pulled out the phone, frustrated, and was irritated to see it was Geoff again. ‘Fuck off, Geoff,’ he murmured.
‘Would he normally hassle you?’
‘No.’
‘Then it’s important. Answer it.’
He pressed the button. ‘Yes, mate, not a good time.’
‘Sorry, Hawk. This is important.’
‘Where are you?’ he asked, expecting his friend to say the Inner Hebrides or some far-flung highland village.
‘Stoke Newington, outside DI Carter’s house.’
Jack took a moment to process the information. It was the last response on earth he’d expected from Geoff Benson. ‘Kate Carter’s house, you mean?’
‘Kate Carter, yes! Where are you?’
‘I’m in Spitalfields, er, in the middle of one of my sessions with Dr Brooks.’ He glanced, embarrassed, at Jane, who was already doing up her silk shirt.
‘Shit, sorry, Jack. But something’s very wrong.’
He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, frowning as both desire and all signs of it wilted. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I know this is going to sound really odd but I was supposed to be having dinner with Kate tonight.’
‘Dinner? With Kate?’
‘I’m sure I just told you that, Jack,’ Geoff admonished him.
‘Get on with it!’
‘Well, she’s not here.’
‘I don’t know what to say. I’ve not kept anyone particularly late tonight. As far as I know Kate was returning from Hertford … perhaps she was held up or —’
‘No, Jack, listen to me. Her front door is ajar. Inside music is going, the heater’s on, there’s a half drunk glass of something sparkly, chops are marinating in the kitchen and potatoes were about to boil dry on the stove. What’s more, she sent me a text just ten minutes ago suggesting I get over here earlier than arranged because she was already home.’
Jack looked at his watch. It was almost 7.20.
‘What time were you meant to meet?’
‘Seven p.m. but she said come early. I’ve been waiting here since about ten to. I thought she’d dashed out to get something she’d forgotten, but I’m worried now. She would have rung, surely?’
‘Yes, she would have. I’m concerned about the door being ajar. That doesn’t sound right.’
‘And there’s a window open upstairs, although I haven’t taken a proper look. It could be nothing.’
‘No one in London leaves windows open and doors ajar,’ Jack murmured, almost to himself. ‘What are we thinking here?’
‘I don’t know, mate. I thought I ought to check in with you in case something had gone down on the case and she’d just dashed out, hadn’t had a chance to let me know. I’m a bit baffled to know what to do.’
‘I haven’t heard from Kate all day but she’s been in touch with the ops room. I knew she was on her way back from Hertford but that would have been around 5 p.m. or so. And I was told she was going directly home rather than via Westminster.’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think something’s wrong. I’ll get over there right now.’
‘Okay. I’ll try her mobile again.’
‘Give me fifteen minutes. I need to let Dr Brooks know what’s going on.’
Geoff rang off and Jack looked sheepishly at Jane who was now sitting up against some pillows, her legs tucked nimbly beneath her.
‘No explanations needed,’ she said. ‘Just go.’
‘Jane, I’m really sorry —’
‘Don’t you dare. This is the nature of your work. And perhaps it gives us both a chance to take a breath, Jack, consider our positions.’
He moved closer and cupped her face as he kissed her gently. There was nothing to say. He couldn’t tell if he was quietly glad that they’d been interrupted; all he knew was the later recriminations were likely to have been very dark indeed.
She stroked his face as he pulled away, her expression wistful, and still tinged with longing — but he sensed she felt a similar relief. ‘That call sounded urgent.’
‘It is. One of my team might be in trouble.’
‘Go then, Jack. Call me if I can help.’
He buttoned his shirt in moments, grateful that she was so understanding. ‘Jane, your help has already been invaluable.’
‘I’m glad.’ She looked as if she was going to say more, but blew him a breezy kiss instead.
Jack thought she would be an easy person to love.
Outside, a cab was quickly found and an obliging driver had him in front of Kate’s house, where Geoff awaited him, within the promised quarter of an hour.
Jack rushed towards his friend. ‘I’ve already rung Sarah who was running the ops room today,’ he explained, ‘and she confirmed again that Kate was definitely coming straight back home.’
‘I’ve looked around,’ Geoff said, as they walked into the house. ‘All the preparations for dinner were under way, as I told you; she’s not answering her mobile and her bag’s still here, her wallet inside. I don’t think there’s a woman alive who leaves the house without her bag, is there?’
Jack shook his head. He looked where Geoff pointed and picked up the bag he recognised as the one Kate had been carrying that morning. Inside he found her warrant. ‘And there’s absolutely no way she’d leave this behind. Okay, something’s definitely wrong. Can you mobilise a forensics team down here? I think we ought to check for an intruder. I’m going to ring Sarah back and find out exactly what Kate’s movements were today.’
Within twenty minutes men and women were moving around Kate’s house, dusting for fingerprints, searching for signs of intrusion. Cam had arrived and Sarah was on her way, both too worried to remain at home. Other members of the team had been contacted in case Kate had spoken with them, but it seemed no one knew anything.
Jack and Geoff were anxiously waiting to speak with the leader of the forensics team, who finally emerged into the kitchen. Jack had absently picked up a silk scarf of Kate’s that was on the kitchen bench and was twirling it around his fingers. The warmth of his hands released the familiar fragrance of her perfume. It was as though she was with them in the room and he felt a spike of anger cut through his body that anyone might try to harm her.
‘We don’t have everything in yet, DCI Hawksworth, but an educated guess suggests someone has entered the property via the upstairs window. We’ve got some size-12 footprints and can see where the lock was forced. There’s a bit of muck on the stairs matching some marks on the carpet beneath the window and also on the landing. I think we’ll find it to be common or garden dog turd.’
Jack shook his head, pushing Kate’s scarf into his pocket without registering what he was doing. ‘Why? Why would anyone want to take Kate? Her car is gone too, I think. She’s got a small hatchback but I’ve looked up and down the street an
d it’s nowhere to be seen. Her car keys aren’t in her bag either.’
It was Geoff who asked the most relevant question. ‘In her enquiries at Hertford, who had she most recently spoken with?’
24.
Kate thought about screaming as the boot was hauled open.
‘Don’t even think about making a noise,’ her attacker warned her. ‘You may not be able to see the syringe I have in my hand but you can either walk to our destination nice and quietly, or I can drag you there by your lovely blonde hair with you out cold. So choose.’
‘I can’t imagine screaming will help,’ she said, sounding far braver than she felt. ‘Or why bring me here, wherever we are?’
‘Well done,’ he said, all but dragging her from the boot of the estate Volvo. In the same instant she saw the glisten of the syringe in his gloved hand — he hadn’t been lying — and immediately recognised that she was back in the grounds of the Elysiu. Clinic. Except she was not being manhandled towards the main building but toward the very outbuildings her gut had told her not so long ago to inspect during daylight. How could she have been so remiss? How could she have persuaded herself that running there in the rain wasn’t worth it? And screaming definitely wouldn’t help. Thunder had begun again and it was windy. Her cries would carry barely a few metres in all this elemental noise.
She fell back on her training and did her utmost not to panic, wondering how she might tap in a blind, blisteringly urgent text to Jack, although the last number on her phone was Geoff Benson’s. He could alert everyone and would surely already be smelling a rat when she wasn’t waiting at home to greet him. While her wrists were secured, though, she wasn’t texting anyone. Please, Geoff, she prayed, please be suspicious of my absence and start looking for me.
‘Over there,’ the huge, ginger-haired man said, pointing, towards the furthest of the buildings from the main clinic.
With her hands tied and ankles bound loosely she couldn’t contemplate making a run for it, and she certainly wanted to face Chan fully alert, not sedated. She wanted to stare him in the eye — and ask him why.
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