Small Mercies

by Small Mercies (epub)

  ‘I try to be. It’s only people like Ian who have to put up with my ranting.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Wharton said.

  Annie smiled at Burbage and Wharton. Clearly they worked well together. ‘Thanks for all your help, anyway. I’m sorry if we’ve wasted your time.’

  ‘You’ve not wasted anyone’s time,’ Wharton said. ‘Those cameras are real enough. We’d better get on, if you’re sure you’re okay here. But if anything else happens tonight, just call it in.’

  ‘Trust me, we will.’ Annie’s face turned serious. ‘Sheena can play the hero all she likes. But I’m only too happy to admit that this scares the hell out of me. And I’m not easily scared.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘You’re doing what?’

  Annie Delamere could see a couple of her colleagues in the open-plan office look over in curiosity at her semi-yelped question. She reminded herself yet again that it was best to lower your voice in this environment. Though that was often a challenge when she was on the phone to her mother.

  ‘It’s just a pilot. They may never show it.’

  Annie could almost envisage the expression on her mother’s face as she spoke those words. She knew exactly how much she was succeeding in winding up her daughter, and she was no doubt enjoying every minute.

  ‘Mum, it was one of Mo Henley’s supporters behind what happened to Sheena the other day. He’s just a racist thug.’

  ‘He may well be but he’s entitled to his views.’

  ‘Not if he’s inciting racial hatred, he isn’t. You know all this better than I do.’

  ‘He won’t be inciting racial hatred on any programme I’m involved in. And the whole point is to challenge his opinions.’

  ‘While giving him a platform to express them.’

  ‘You know my views on de-platforming, or whatever idiotic term it is they use for silencing free speech.’

  They could go round this loop all day, and Annie knew there was no point. As always, her mother would do what she wanted to do and nothing could be done to stop her. ‘You’re really doing a television series?’

  ‘It’s not a series. It’s just a pilot for a possible slot on the local politics programme. The idea is to do challenging interviews with provocative political figures, which is why they’ve gone for Henley for the pilot. They’re looking to liven things up, and because I’ve appeared on there a few times, they thought of me. But it could be the start of a whole new career, even at my age.’

  Annie sighed. There were countless reasons for her to dislike this idea. The ribbing she’d no doubt get from her colleagues here. The glee that her mother would take in adopting positions she knew would cause her daughter maximum embarrassment. The fact that so many people here still assumed that Annie had only reached her current rank because of some behind-the-scenes influencing from her mother. That assumption would become even more prevalent if her mother’s public profile continued to grow.

  But there was nothing she could do to prevent her mother doing this. It might sometimes seem as if her mother’s sole motive was to embarrass her daughter, but Annie didn’t really believe that was really the case. She was doing this because she wanted to. And why shouldn’t she? She was retired. She was divorced. She probably needed a hobby. But why the hell did it have to be this?

  ‘I just hope you know what you’re doing, Mum. I don’t want you to end up making a fool of yourself—’

  She regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them, and sure enough her mother’s retort was immediate. ‘You always know how to fill me with confidence, Annie. You seem to think it’s your life’s work to undermine me and my reputation. Can I just remind you that I progressed further in the force than you’re ever likely to…’

  Annie had repeatedly told herself that her mother’s accusations at moments like this were nothing more than what psychologists call ‘projection’, but that didn’t prevent her from feeling guilty. ‘You know that’s not what I mean. It’s just that this is all new to you—’

  ‘And that’s why it’s exciting. I don’t know why you can’t just be pleased for me.’

  ‘I am. Congratulations. Look, Mum, I’ve really got to go now.’ There really was no point in yet again pointing out why this kind of development was less than ideal for Annie.

  ‘Of course you have. Far too busy to talk to me.’

  This from the woman whom Annie Delamere had barely seen throughout her childhood. The woman who was always too busy to be there for her bedtimes or to come to school performances. The woman whose career had always come before everything, including her daughter and her marriage. ‘I’ll give you a call tonight, okay?’

  ‘How is Sheena, anyway? I hope she’s okay.’

  Typical of her mother to finally mention Sheena’s welfare, as an afterthought when Annie was trying to wrap up the call. ‘She’s fine. A bit shaken but fine. I’ll pass on your good wishes.’ The last sentence came out as more sarcastic than she’d intended, but she was almost past caring. ‘I’ll call you tonight. Bye, Mum.’

  She ended the call before her mother could say anything more, then looked up to see Stuart Jennings standing in front of her desk, grinning broadly. He’d obviously arrived at some point while she’d had her head down, struggling to hold onto the last threads of patience with her mother. She didn’t know how much of the conversation he’d actually overheard.

  ‘The blessed Margaret, I assume?’

  ‘The one and only.’

  ‘What’s she up to?’

  ‘This and that.’ She had no intention of sharing her mother’s news with Jennings. ‘Like she always is.’

  ‘Busy woman. Talking of which, I hear you had an eventful evening.’

  ‘You might say that.’

  ‘Just been talking to Andy Dwyer. He’s heading out to talk to Sheena today. You’ve no problem with that?’

  ‘Why would I have? The sooner we get this sorted, the better.’

  ‘He wanted to have a chat with you first. Just informally to get a bit of background. He’s going to call you, but I thought I’d give you the heads-up in advance. Just so he doesn’t catch you on the hop.’

  ‘Happy to talk to him, formally or otherwise. But I don’t know how much I’ll be able to tell him. Sheena’s the one he really needs to talk to.’

  ‘To be honest, I think he’s mainly concerned about the sensitivities of the investigation. He’s aware how high-profile it is and he doesn’t want to screw up. He just wants to pick your brains to make sure he doesn’t say anything out of turn.’

  ‘To Sheena?’ Annie laughed. ‘She wouldn’t care what he said. She’s not exactly the high and mighty type.’

  ‘You know that. Andy doesn’t. To him, she’s a public figure who’s in a position to make a lot of capital about any aspects of the investigation she’s not happy with. He just wants to get it right.’

  ‘All she wants is for us to catch the bastard who did it. She’s honestly not too fussed about the niceties.’

  ‘That’s what we all want. Andy especially. Anyway, he’ll be in contact with both of you this morning.’

  ‘Sooner the better as far as I’m concerned—’ She was about to say something more when her mobile buzzed on the desk. She glanced at the screen. ‘Zoe. I’d better take it. She’s been out talking to Darren Parkin’s employer. The only lead that Jonny Garfield was prepared to give us.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Jennings rose and waved a vague farewell as she picked up the phone.

  ‘Zoe? How’d you get on?’

  ‘It’s been interesting. The manager was around, fortunately, and she was as helpful as she could be. Darren did work there for a while, but not for some time. She reckoned he seemed a decent-enough lad, willing worker, all that, but not the brightest. His employment record was patchy, she said, but it looked as if it was mainly because he’d been laid off or made redundant rather than through any fault of his. No real qualifications, so the world wasn’t exactly his
oyster. He’d made noises about wanted to get on in catering, and she’d tried to encourage him in that. But he didn’t turn in a few months back and they didn’t see him again. She’d been a bit surprised because he’d been pretty reliable up to that point, but he wasn’t the first who’d let them down.’

  ‘Goes with the minimum-wage territory, I’m guessing.’

  ‘That’s more or less what she said, though a bit more diplomatically. But she’d been particularly surprised in this case because the owner had apparently taken a bit of a shine to him.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Name meant nothing to me, but he’s apparently a guy with a few bars and clubs around the area. Does very well for himself, she reckoned. She said he’s always looking for employees with potential and she’d mentioned Darren as someone who seemed to want to get on. The owner had had a few chats with him, and she’d thought Darren appreciated the attention.’

  ‘Poor kid. When the biggest opportunity in your life is being a kitchen porter in a cafe.’

  ‘Some people don’t even get that,’ Zoe pointed out.

  ‘How did she react when you told her what had happened to Darren?’

  ‘As you’d expect. Shocked. Couldn’t believe it could have happened to someone like him. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would have a reason to harm him. Just the usual, really.’

  ‘And she had no idea what might have happened to him since he’d stopped working there?’

  ‘So she said.’

  ‘Doesn’t take us very far, does it?’

  ‘Not really, other than filling in his background. The main thing I got out of it was his home address. Guess what?’

  ‘I’m not sure I’ve got the brainpower for all this guessing, Zo. Go on.’

  ‘It’s just a few streets from Jonny Garfield. There’s no way Garfield couldn’t have known where he lived.’

  ‘Not a surprise that Garfield was lying. I’m just wondering why he bothered. He must have known we’d find out.’

  ‘I didn’t get the impression that he was being particularly rational yesterday.’

  ‘That’s one way of putting it. We’ll have to pay him another visit. Keep the pressure on. He’ll talk to us eventually. When he realises that we’re probably the closest thing he’s got to a friend.’

  ‘You want me to go and check out Darren’s address?’

  ‘Why don’t we go together? Don’t know if we’ll be able to gain access, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You go and grab a bite to eat, and I’ll head into the city centre. I’ve just got to see a man about an MP, and I’ll be on my way.’

  ‘A man about an MP?’

  ‘Andy Dwyer.’

  ‘Ah. How’s he getting on?’

  ‘That’s one thing I want to find out.’ She’d already told Zoe about the previous night’s developments. ‘I don’t know if we’re still in lone fanatic territory or somewhere even more sinister, but the sooner we sort this, the more comfortable I’ll be.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘Morning, Andy.’

  Dwyer peered over his computer screen. ‘Annie. Was just about to give you a call.’

  Dwyer was located in an open-plan office almost identical to her own but one floor lower in the building. ‘Stuart told me. I was just heading out, so I thought I’d grab you on my way past.’

  ‘Always delighted to be grabbed by you, Annie.’ Dwyer was a year or two younger than Annie but had the air of being prematurely middle-aged. He’d obviously been an athletic type once, but was now running slightly to fat, with incipient baldness and jowls. He’d make an ideal Chief Constable one day, she thought. He certainly made no effort to conceal his ambition.

  ‘You’d better not try that kind of talk with Sheena. She’s been known to castrate a man for less.’

  Dwyer looked mildly startled before realising she was joking. ‘That’s really what I wanted to talk to you about.’

  ‘Your fear of castration? Don’t worry. She only does it figuratively.’ She allowed him a smile. ‘Seriously, happy to help you in any way I can. We just want to get this sorted.’

  ‘Trust me, I’ll pull out all the stops. I just thought it might be helpful to know a bit more about Ms Pearson before I talk to her. In case, there’s any useful background you can give me.’

  ‘Not sure what I can tell you. I’ve known her for years. We were at uni together. Before she was an MP she was a politics lecturer. She’d always been active in Labour politics, but she never really thought she’d become an MP. The party half-expected her to lose in 2010. She was very different from her predecessor and the majority was getting squeezed.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m just throwing facts at you. Probably not very useful.’

  ‘It’s helpful just to get a feel for the kind of person she is. I looked her up online but it didn’t tell me too much.’

  ‘She tends to avoid controversy. Until now, anyway. She’s very driven, conscientious, wants to do the best for her constituents. Takes it seriously.’

  ‘I don’t share her politics,’ Dwyer said. ‘But we could do with more MPs like that. From what I’ve read, she strikes me as a decent sort.’

  ‘She’s that all right.’

  ‘Not sure if I should be asking this, but did it cause any problems? Her becoming an MP while you were a serving officer, I mean.’

  ‘I got it all cleared through the right channels.’ Annie was conscious that she could sound defensive in responding to questions like this, though she wasn’t sure what she had to be defensive about. ‘Even when she was first elected as a councillor, in fact. Everything we both do is transparent and above board, and we have a kind of “Chinese wall” arrangement on anything political. We just don’t discuss it, in the same way I don’t discuss police business with her. Everybody seems happy with that.’

  Dwyer held up his hands. ‘Didn’t mean to imply anything different. I was just curious, that’s all. How’s she taken all this?’

  ‘As you’d expect, really. Very shaken, but she’s pretty resilient. The main challenge will be to stop her getting straight back to work.’

  ‘This may be a daft question given her line of work, but do you think there’s anyone who’d have a reason to want to hurt her? She seems to do a fair bit of campaigning.’

  ‘Well, that’s part of her job. She stirred a bit of a hornets’ nest with her comments, hence the protest outside her office. And like a lot of MPs, particularly female ones, she gets more than her fair share of abusive messages and correspondence.’

  ‘I’ve seen her social media timelines,’ Dwyer said. ‘Some nasty stuff.’

  ‘And, in fairness, some very nice stuff. And a lot of the abuse is just from lonely men who get their kicks from trying to scare what they imagine to be a vulnerable female. Most of it you can disregard. The trick is trying to spot the tiny percentage you need to take seriously. But, like I say, Sheena’s not really the provocative type. She speaks out when she feels strongly about something, as she did on the Bulldog thing, but she doesn’t go looking for trouble.’

  ‘What about last night’s developments?’ Dwyer said. ‘Someone had clearly been into your garden to place those cameras. Have you seen anyone suspicious hanging around?’

  ‘Not that I can recall. But Sheena and I are out of the place a lot. You know the kind of hours we can work in this job, and Sheena’s down in London for most of the week when Parliament’s sitting. It wouldn’t be difficult or particularly risky for someone to get into the garden. I assume you’ll be speaking to some of the neighbours? There aren’t that many houses around us, but there are one or two neighbours who tend to notice any comings and goings.’

  ‘We’re on to that. You have any security cameras at the house?’

  ‘We do, actually. But they’re trained on the front and rear doors, so they wouldn’t pick up anyone who was just in the garden.’

  ‘Worth checking, though. And we’ll do a search around the garden just in case there are other cameras.’r />
  ‘What about the shootings? Are you making any progress with those?’

  ‘Surprisingly little with yesterday’s, to be honest. I’d assumed we’d pick someone or something up on CCTV. There are plenty of cameras around the hospital site. But our friend seems to have neatly eluded all of them.’

  ‘Almost as if they knew what they were doing?’

  ‘Exactly. Looks to me like someone who’d fairly carefully sussed out where the cameras were and did their best to avoid them. I’ve got someone going through the footage for the last few days to see if we can spot anyone acting suspiciously but it’s a long shot. And so far no strong leads from any of the CCTV or other cameras on the surrounding roads, either. My guess is whoever did it was parked discreetly somewhere outside the site, but the main roads round there are busy, so it’s difficult to pick out anything useful. As you know, we issued a warning in the media that the shooter or shooters remain at large, along with an appeal for any information. We’ve had the usual small deluge of calls but there are only a handful of even potentially promising leads.’ He paused. ‘Wish there was more. But it’s early days.’

  Or, alternatively, the Golden Hours, she thought. The early days of an investigation when you were most likely to make a breakthrough. It didn’t always work like that, of course. Many cases were cracked simply through long hours and sheer hard work. But it was discouraging to have so few leads at this stage. She knew Dwyer would be leaving nothing to chance but she felt frustration, tinged with fear. ‘What about the previous day’s shooting?’

  ‘We’re making more progress with that.’ She could see Dwyer visibly relax as they moved on to more comfortable territory. ‘Got some decent CCTV footage of the protestors and we’ve identified a few of them from the system. Small-time thugs, most of them. We’ve also had a couple shopped by their friends or family. So we’re following up on all those. The challenge will be identifying who actually fired the shot. So far, they’re all denying any knowledge. Claiming they didn’t know that anyone on the protest was carrying a gun, and they wouldn’t have allowed it if they’d known. Thing is, it might even be true. The first part, anyway.’