The machine was slow. They hadn’t been bothered about getting a state-of-the-art piece of equipment, just something to keep them connected to Em as she dipped her toes out into the world. To be her safety net, should she need one. And she had. She really had. But this damn laptop couldn’t catch her and neither had Isaac.
Or anyone else.
The screen lit and he opened a browser, which was even slower to load. Too far away from the house. Even he knew that, but as long as he could do what he needed to, it didn’t matter how much time it took. He had all the time in the world now. He worked methodically, using laptop and notebook and pen to write down what he found out. After each search, the pile of medicines gradually changed from his left side to the right, and when he finally closed the lid on the laptop the entire pile had moved. He had what he wanted. All he had to do now was move it to the allotment – further away from his home, away from Connie.
96
The light that filtered through my eyelids was brighter than I expected. My phone alarm was set for six a.m. I wanted to move but everything felt stiff. And cold. Freezing, in fact. Then I realised I was still on the sofa. That would be why it was so light; I didn’t have blackout lining in the living room and the summer sun rises at an ungodly hour. Rolling my neck with as much care as I could, I reached down to the floor where I knew my phone would be. My head; throbbing. My arm; protesting.
I needed some painkillers. And I needed a shower.
Blinking sleep out of my eyes and pushing myself up, I tried to focus through the pain that enveloped my fragile body. The room was bathed in sunlight.
I looked at my phone and checked the time.
‘Fuck.’
It was dead. I hadn’t charged it and I had no idea what time it was. There wasn’t a single clock in my apartment. I lived and breathed by the phone in my pocket.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Painkillers and a quick shower helped to wake me up. My phone had also had time to wake. It told me in no uncertain terms that I’d slept in, and I’d done a bloody good job of it. It was nine-thirty a.m. and there were seven missed calls and five messages. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed the in-car charger from the drawer and started to listen to the messages as I made my way into work.
The first one was Aaron, wanting to know where I was.
The second one was Aaron, wanting to know what time I was going to be in.
The third one was Aaron, now sounding annoyed. Catherine was chasing him up, looking for me. He told me the city was in meltdown and I needed to be in work.
The fourth message told me Aaron couldn’t cover for me any more and Catherine was on the warpath.
I slammed on my brakes as the car in front hit his for the red lights at the Shakespeare Street/Mansfield Road junction. The driver’s eyes glinted at me in the rear-view mirror as by some minor miracle I missed hitting him, though he could easily have driven through the amber light safely because stopping so suddenly really was more of an issue and driving through would not have been the cause of any accident. He couldn’t see that I was on my phone, as I had my hands-free on through the speakers in the car. I was safe. He was an idiot.
The next message was from Catherine.
She wanted to know where the hell I was. Was I supposed to be leading this team, this investigation?
Oh, fuck.
The lights changed, and we moved off. Not before the guy in the Prius glared at me again in his mirror and threw his left hand up in the middle of the car, showing his frustration.
The last message on my phone, I’m not sure I wanted to hear. The painkillers didn’t seem to be doing their thing. The day had got off to a bad start. I wanted it to start again. Or miss it altogether. I felt like shit. Catherine was on my back. I wasn’t getting anywhere with the investigation and the inquest was looming like a huge dark tidal wave, waiting to drown us all in its surging waters.
It was Catherine again, telling me that if I wanted to keep control of this investigation – or any investigation in the future – I needed to get into her office right away.
97
The kettle whistled to announce its arrival at boiling point. Switching the kettle on was the first thing I had done after arriving at work. I’d driven into the rear staff car park, having seen the fire damage done to the front. Two uniform officers were standing by the door, showing we were still here – not to be moved or intimidated.
I tipped the water over the teabag and walked towards the incident room. As I pushed the door open with my spare hand a couple of heads turned to look. Aaron stood, straightened his tie and made a beeline for me, determination in his step, as I walked towards him.
‘Where have you been?’ His voice was low. If he didn’t want this conversation to be heard, then I probably didn’t either.
‘Hey, look I’m sorry, I know I’m late, I forgot to plug my phone in last night and it died so my alarm didn’t go off.’
‘And you only just woke up?’
‘Yes, I only just woke up.’
‘Everyone else managed to make it in.’
‘I know.’ I pushed the door again, this time moving towards my office.
‘Even Ross.’ Could I take any more painkillers yet? I doubted it. Bloody hell. This was going to be a long day. I needed to tough it out.
‘I’m sorry. Catherine’s left me a couple of messages as well. I need to go and see her.’ I turned to look at him as we neared my office door. ‘How bad is it?’
Aaron touched the knot on his tie but it was straight, even. Nothing for him to do. His hand dropped back to his side. Always so calm, so organised. ‘Well, she’s far from happy, Hannah. She expected you in early with everyone else. I tried to cover for you for a while but she was like a dog with a bone and wanted to talk to you after events yesterday. Eventually she figured out you weren’t even in.’
‘Did you help her?’ I couldn’t help it.
‘Help her what?’ He looked confused. This irritated me more.
‘Figure out I wasn’t in.’
‘No, why would I?’
‘I don’t know, Aaron, why would you?’ I wanted to put my mug down, to rub both my arms, but we were still standing in the corridor outside my office.
‘Hannah, what are you getting at? You’re late. I don’t understand the rest of it.’
‘Don’t you, Aaron?’ I raised my voice at him. Goddamn it, I wanted this bloody mug out of my hands and I wanted this pain to stop. All of this pain.
‘Hannah?’
‘It’s all about the work with you, Aaron. Just the work. It’s been six months since Sally was killed and not once have we sat down and talked about how you feel. Not once have I seen you get stressed in the job. You’ve breezed through this. I’d say, dispassionately, almost. Very together. Ross has nearly imploded. Martin is living his life differently, spending time with Sharon and their dogs. Christ, Grey is turning into a ghost. Yet you, you, I see no change.’ I was aware my voice had gone up several octaves, but right at this moment in time I didn’t care. What I cared about was my team and it didn’t feel as though Aaron was a part of that team. He stood there, stock still. Voiceless.
‘So, what I’m thinking is that you didn’t cover for me quite as well as you could have done because this is a job and I wasn’t here where I was supposed to be – and why should you cover for me? It’s not as though we’re a team for you, is it? Where is your heart, Aaron? I see no evidence of it.’ I was practically screaming in his face; my pain, fears, hurt and anger driving me on. The mug in my hand was shaking so much the tea was slopping over the sides, burning my hand, the sting hitting my nerve endings and resulting in an increase in my emotional outburst.
Aaron kept his voice low, but stepped closer so I could hear him, a look of sadness on his face. ‘I did try to cover for you, Hannah. I tried. Catherine is on a mission. You know how bad it is right now.’ He paused while I took a breath. I looked behind him and saw I was drawing an audience. Ross.
‘T
he reason I don’t talk to you about my feelings is because I have Asperger’s. I am upset about Sally. I am upset that the team isn’t coping well and I want to do the best that I can to support you and to help you support them. The simplest way I can think to do that is to work as hard as I can, so that’s why you see me the way that you do. I will always support you as long as we work together, Hannah.’
And with that, he walked away.
98
Evie took the mug I was still holding and set it down on her desk. She pulled open her top drawer, fished out a pack of chocolate biscuits and handed them to me. There were only a few left.
My life was spiralling. ‘How could I do this to him?’ I paced to the end of her office and turned on my heel.
‘You weren’t to know.’
‘I wasn’t to know he has Asperger’s, but I am supposed to know how to treat my staff, Evie.’ I turned again as I reached the opposite end of her small office. ‘There’s no way I should have yelled at him in the corridor like that. There’s no way I should have yelled at him like that, full stop.’
‘You’re stressed, you know that, right?’
The biscuit tasted sweet in my mouth, the melted chocolate sticking like glue, and I struggled to answer. Evie passed me my mug and I slurped down a mouthful of now-cool green tea.
‘Yes. I do. But what can I do? There’s nowhere to run, with this investigation going on, and Sally’s inquest about to start up again soon.’ A sigh escaped from me. ‘What have I done to Aaron?’
I paced back to the other end of her office. Evie watched me from her chair, her stunning curls piled on top of her head today. Strands had escaped from where grips and bobbles were trying to restrain them. ‘I doubt you have done anything to him. It’s likely he told you so you’d understand. From what you said, he’s trying to support you and the team. Let him.’
I twisted myself round again as I made to walk another stretch of her office. ‘He’s right though. Things are falling apart. Or rather, I’m falling apart and I’ve needed him. I’m losing focus.’
I looked at my friend.
‘Do you know why I was late in today?’
‘No, why?’
She grabbed the biscuit packet from me as I made my way to the last one and pulled it out of the pack for herself.
‘Because I was busy getting drunk on my own last night, on a bottle of red, while I reread articles Ethan had written about the investigation and the initial one about the inquest, and I forgot to plug in my phone and fell asleep on the sofa. Drowning in my own sorrows.’
Evie held out the half biscuit she had left. I ate it.
‘I need to refocus on my team and on the investigation, and not on the past. Not on Ethan. Not on what I may or may not have done. I need to pull them through this and they won’t get through it if I fall by the wayside first.’
I walked back to Evie’s desk and finished my green tea.
‘That article I reread last night.’
‘Which one?’
‘About Sally’s inquest. Her death. Her murder. It felt too much.’
‘I know, sweetie. But you seem to be on the right track at the minute.’
I paused. Death.
Death.
Murder.
What was it about those things?
Death, it was so final.
Painful.
‘Shit!’
‘What?’
‘Death.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘The digoxin. We’ve not thought about it widely enough. Well, we thought we were … but what if the patient who is prescribed the digoxin is actually dead now and someone else is using their prescription?’
‘Now, I follow.’
‘That is a list of patients I need.’
99
Connie dropped the paper on his knee. It landed heavily. Smacking down flat.
‘I thought I’d bring it to you this morning, rather than have you dashing to the door for it.’
Isaac hadn’t even heard it arrive today. His mood was dark. Unlike the sunlight which was already streaming through the window with a warmth to it that hinted at a searing day.
‘Thanks.’
She was already gone, her footsteps fading up the staircase towards Em’s room.
The Today was face down. He didn’t move. He was afraid. For the first time since this started, not since it all started, because that involved Emma and there was no fear like the fear of losing a child, but since he started his plan of action for her, since then, he was afraid.
His hand shook as he turned the newspaper over and laid it out flat so he could read it. The headlines clamouring for every pixel of space, their sensationalised words fighting against the images taken during the previous night. Isaac’s heart hammered against his chest. He couldn’t breathe.
City Hit By Riots
The city of Nottingham is recovering from the worst night of violence in its recent memory after riots broke out in several suburbs as well as the city centre.
Events took an alarming turn as St Ann’s police station was firebombed while officers were still inside the building. The Today has been informed that there are three civilian staff in hospital with minor smoke inhalation. Carol Timpson, 54, Keeley Bond, 23, and Mike Gott, 31.
Fire crews were quick to the scene and to put the fire out. The building is structurally secure and officers are back at work today.
The disorder started after the sudden and violent death of 4-year-old Bridgette York, the previous day, who was shopping with her mother at Tesco on Carlton Hill, when a car ploughed into the store, killing her instantly.
As the driver of the vehicle was arrested, anger erupted around the lack of identification of the so-called ‘poison killer’.
Rioting first broke out at the supermarket where Bridgette died when a group of people targeted the store to display their outrage at the turn of events.
Police attempted to quell the unrest but it soon became apparent they were outmanned as the protesters turned on officers, throwing projectiles; bottles, bricks and any other items they could get their hands on.
This was a catalyst for social media-led hysteria as a strongly-worded hashtag #nottscopsare**** flooded Facebook and Twitter and the police found themselves the target rather than the law enforcement.
This quickly escalated to widespread disorder and emergency services were stretched to the limit as the fire service and medical personnel battled to gain control, save lives and bring order again.
DCI Anthony Grey said, ‘This was an act of disorder that put the lives of Nottinghamshire police officers and staff at risk.
‘They showed great courage in the face of adversity last night and they will continue to serve and protect the people of Nottinghamshire. We ask for calm and control today and for your help if we are to resolve this situation as quickly as possible. I would urge anyone who has any knowledge of the ‘poison killer’ to come forward; your information will be treated in the utmost confidence.’
The ‘poison killer’ may not have expected this level of disruption but we have to wonder if this plays into his longer-term game plan.
Longer-term game plan? Is that how they were seeing him? As a man, with a longer-term game plan? Isaac’s chest was really hurting now. What had he done? Connie was right. It could have been Em out there. If she had still been alive and some father decided this was a good idea, then she could have been in the middle of this.
He was poison. Look what he had turned into. He had to get out of the house. Away from Connie. He was sure she could see right through him. Before all this – when they were a real couple, before they were just Emma’s bereaved parents, she could see him and see through him.
He had to get away.
The allotment.
Isaac dropped the paper on the floor and picked up his car keys.
100
The updated list was obtained from HEAD with relative speed as we narrowed down the parameters to just out
side the time frame the murders started. Giving time allowance for shock to wear off. Because we knew what we wanted and we knew where to go this time, it was all so much easier.
Martin had worked efficiently on this as I had gone to Catherine’s office.
Thanks to Evie, I was in a much better frame of mind to see her than I had been when I’d first arrived at work. Had I gone straight in to see her while my emotions were still all over, my job could have been in a very tenuous position. As it was, Evie had allowed me to talk things through, combined with a lot of pacing and consuming of chocolate biscuits, but now I felt clearer, more level-headed. More focused on the job at hand. On my team.
Detective Superintendent Catherine Walker on the other hand, could have done with sharing a few chocolate biscuits with Evie. She was in a foul mood and was not shy in letting me know. I was shown into her office as soon as I arrived. It was still early but her office was already starting to warm up. There were two walls of windows, creating an impressive greenhouse effect. One of the windows was pushed open but it was doing little to ease the heat that was accumulating in the room.
I pushed my fringe back off my face and closed the door before taking a seat in front of Catherine’s desk. A single bead of sweat slid down my spine. I arched my back so it wouldn’t stick to my shirt. Catherine didn’t seem fazed by the heat. She looked cool, if somewhat annoyed.
‘Where the hell have you been, Hannah? Do you think you have the time to slope off and have a lie-in when we have all hell breaking loose outside our doors?’
The DI Hannah Robbins Series: Books 1 - 3 (Boxset) (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series) Page 43