by Tiana Carver
‘Yes,’ said Marina, ‘and solicitors never know anything, do they?’
‘But she’s not a criminal lawyer,’ Glass explained, as if they were two retarded children. ‘She’s one of the most well-respected solicitors in the area.’
‘And she may know something about the imminent murder of a child,’ said Mickey. ‘If we had got her to talk, we could have saved that boy’s life.’
‘She can’t know anything,’ Glass said.
‘And you’re sure of that, are you?’ said Marina.
Glass didn’t reply. Just glared at her.
‘You wouldn’t want to stand in the way of a murder investigation, would you?’ said Mickey.
Glass turned his stare on him.
‘Sir,’ Mickey added.
It seemed to Mickey that Glass was making a pretence of thinking. He came to a conclusion. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘We can’t take the chance, can we?’
‘Good,’ said Mickey. He turned for the door. ‘I’ll just—’
‘No,’ said Glass, putting a restraining hand on his arm. ‘I’ll handle the interview. And it’ll be done properly this time.’
‘It was done properly last time,’ said Mickey. ‘Check the recording.’
Glass seemed to hesitate, stuck for what to do. He quickly made up his mind. ‘I’ll still handle the interview. But her solicitor will be present.’ He looked round the observation room. ‘And I’ll do it in private.’
‘Why?’ said Mickey.
‘In case she has anything of a … sensitive nature to reveal.’ He turned to go, turned back again. ‘Good, er, good work, DS Philips.’
He left the room.
Mickey turned to Marina, about to speak. She put her finger to her lips, looked at the door. They waited until Glass had entered the interview room and, along with Michael Fenton, escorted Lynn Windsor from the room.
Only then did Mickey speak.
‘What was all that about?’ he said. ‘And where did you get all that stuff from?’
‘I’ll tell you later. Somewhere more private,’ she said. ‘All I can tell you at the moment, the most important thing at this time, is that Glass is dirty. He’s as bent as they come.’
Mickey gave a small laugh. ‘I think I’d guessed that.’
‘And he’s in this all the way.’ Marina looked at her watch. ‘Coffee time. Come on. I’m buying.’
They both left the room.
106
Phil’s phone rang.
He thought it must be Marina calling him back, telling him what had happened in Mickey’s interview with Lynn Windsor. But it wasn’t. It was pathologist Nick Lines calling.
‘I’ve got to take this,’ Phil said to the others in the hotel room.
‘Phil, it’s Nick. How are you?’
‘Suspended, believe it or not. How are you?’
There was a pause while Nick took in what Phil had just said. ‘Sorry?’
‘Suspended. DCI Glass has suspended me.’
‘Why?’
‘God knows. You’d better ask him.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s OK,’ said Phil. ‘It’s only temporary.’ I hope, he added mentally. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Well I’ve been trying to reach Rose Martin and can’t get hold of her.’
‘No,’ said Phil, ‘you won’t. Can I help?’
‘If you know where she is.’
Phil gave some thought to his answer. ‘I don’t think she’s going to be around for a while.’
‘Ah.’
‘Yeah.’ Let Nick think she was off the force again. Phil wouldn’t contradict him.
‘So can I help?’
‘It was just something she was looking into. She found a brand on the foot of a dead girl. She asked if I could find a match anywhere for it.’
Phil stole a glance at Donna, back to the phone. ‘And have you?’
‘Not on a dead person, no. But that case you were working on, that boy from the cage, the one in the hospital. I spoke to a friend at the General. Apparently he’s got one. I haven’t seen the photos, but you’ve probably got access to them.’ Then he realised what he had said. ‘Sorry.’
‘No problem. I’ll pass the message across.’
‘This suspension,’ said Nick. ‘You’re going to fight it, I take it?’
‘All the way.’
‘With all you’ve got going on at the moment, you’d think Glass would need all the help he can get. He’s making a big mistake.’
‘Well obviously I agree with you. But don’t worry.’ Phil looked across at Fennell and Clemens. They were sitting on the bed, making plans for the raid later that night. ‘I have a feeling our esteemed DCI won’t be around much longer …’
107
Glass sat down at the table in the interview room. A different interview room. One with no cameras or voice relay. A totally private room. For an impromptu Elders meeting.
Opposite him were Lynn Windsor and Michael Fenton. Lynn looked shattered, like she was barely there. Fenton’s brow was furrowed. He had called Glass after Lynn had gone downstairs to meet someone and never come back. Mickey Philips had been identified, as had his car pulling away. The two Elders had arrived at the police station just in time.
Glass sensed that the others were on the verge of panic. He had to take control of the situation and do it quickly.
‘We need a story,’ he said. ‘And fast. Concentrate. Think.’
Lynn Windsor started to speak. ‘Look, Lawmaker—’
Glass cut her off. ‘There’s no need for that here. We’re perfectly safe. No one’s going to overhear us in this room. Talk freely. We need damage limitation. What have we got?’
Lynn tried to speak again. The words wouldn’t come. Clearly she couldn’t focus her mind. Her eyes dropped to the table, the floor. Yeah, thought Glass, be ashamed. He shook his head, turned away from her. Useless, he thought. She almost gave us up. And I had such high hopes for her. Not any more.
‘You mentioned giving up the Gardener,’ said Fenton. ‘You said if we gave him up it would deflect attention from the shipment coming in tonight. Can you still do that? How has this changed things?’
Glass turned back to Lynn. ‘What did he say to you?’
A weary, defeated sigh. ‘I’ve told you …’
‘Tell me again.’
‘He said, tell me where the Gardener is. He said …’ Another sigh. It was such hard work. ‘He said … that. Just that. Tell me where the Gardener is. Tell me where he is so we can stop him.’
‘And that’s it? Nothing else?’
She was about to speak, but stopped herself. She shook her head. ‘No.’ Her voice tiny, curled in on itself.
Glass studied her. ‘You’re lying. Tell me.’
Fenton leaned across the table. ‘Don’t talk to her like that …’
Glass looked up quickly, his eyes flashing at Fenton. ‘Be quiet.’
Fenton caught the look. Was silenced.
‘What else did he say?’
Another sigh that carried the weight of the world. ‘He … he … called me … Teacher …’
The other two sat back.
‘Oh my God …’ Fenton’s hand went to his mouth.
‘Said … said … he knew about the Elders …’
Glass felt the room zoom in and out of focus, like he was at both ends of a telescope simultaneously. He tried to blink everything else away. Concentrate. Focus.
‘That’s it,’ Fenton was saying. ‘It’s all over. Might as well make a run for it now.’ He made to stand up.
‘No.’ Glass leaned across the table, grabbed his wrist. Pulled him down again. ‘We stick together. We work this out.’
‘But they’re on to us …’
‘No they’re not.’ Glass shook his head. ‘No they’re not. They can’t be. I’d have heard something. I’d know. And I’ve heard nothing.’
‘But he knew …’
‘Yes, he knew,’ s
aid Glass. ‘But that doesn’t mean he knows everything.’ He looked back at Lynn. Lifted her head up by the chin, made eye contact. ‘Did he mention the shipment? Tonight? Did he say anything about that?’
It took her a few seconds to focus. She shook her head. ‘No …’
‘You sure?’ Searching her face for lies.
She shook her head once more. ‘No … he didn’t say …’
‘Good.’ Glass let her head go. It flopped back down. ‘Good.’ He sat back, thinking. Then leaned forward. ‘Here’s what we do. We stick to the plan.’
‘But …’
‘Listen. We stick to the plan. All of it. Where’s the Gardener? At the farmhouse?’
‘Probably,’ said Fenton. ‘That’s his other place.’
‘So he’ll be doing the sacrifice there. Good. Right.’ He slowly nodded his head. ‘This is what’ll happen. I’ll announce to the squad that I’ve received some information. That the Gardener is at the farmhouse. I’ll arrange for an armed response unit to accompany me. We’ll break into the place, stop him.’
‘But … isn’t that dangerous?’
Glass gave a grim smile. ‘For him, maybe. I’ll be armed too. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get out alive. We rescue the boy, come back to town, everybody’s happy. In the meantime, the shipment comes in at Harwich and everybody’s happy there, too. Perfect diversionary tactic. And an impressive collar for Essex Police too. Perfect.’
Fenton rubbed his chin. ‘It’s risky. The farmhouse is where clients pick up and drop off. What if they see the place on the news? What if they come forward?’
Glass laughed. ‘Come forward? After what they’ve done? I doubt it.’
‘Is there anything there that links the place to us?’
Glass thought. ‘It’s where I took Faith Luscombe. Intending to move her back to the Garden. So I may have left some DNA traces there, but only small ones. And this way is better. I’ll have a legitimate reason for being there. And I’ll be in charge of the investigation. I’ll be controlling everything. Don’t worry. Just keep calm, play your part and everything will be fine.’
Lynn’s head came up slowly. ‘This information …’
Glass frowned. ‘What information?’
‘This information … about the Gardener … where did you get it from?’
‘Nowhere. There is no information.’
‘Did you … get it from me?’
He saw what she meant. Was she guilty, had she told them anything? What were the repercussions going to be for her? He thought. Came to a decision. Smiled at her.
‘It’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘You’ve got your solicitor with you, you’ll be free to leave here on your own recognisance. You’ll not be charged with anything. I’ll just say the information came from … an informant. Don’t worry. You won’t be implicated.’
She nodded her head, grateful to hear what she wanted to hear. She wasn’t aware of the silent exchange that passed between Fenton and Glass. Fenton’s look said that he understood perfectly what Glass was doing. Glass’s look asked whether Fenton wanted to challenge it. The way Fenton broke eye contact and looked away told him the answer was no.
Glass sat back. Looked at the other two. ‘So that’s it. Everything will go ahead as planned. Leave the Gardener to me. And hold your nerve. Everything will be fine if we all hold our nerve. Right?’
Fenton nodded.
Glass stood up, opened the door for them to leave. Fenton helped Lynn to her feet. As they passed the DCI on their way out, Glass whispered to Fenton, ‘Look after her. She’s very fragile. She may not last the night.’
Fenton, knowing exactly what he meant and wanting no part of it, hurried Lynn away down the corridor. Glass watched them go.
Smiling.
108
‘Can I have your attention, please.’
Glass stood before the team, knocking on the window of the office behind him to get everyone listening. Mickey and Marina were at the back of the room, having received a text while they were out of the building having coffee. Marina had filled him in on Phil’s phone call. Mickey had sat there. Jaw dropping further with each statement she made. He was so angry, felt so used and betrayed, that he hadn’t wanted to return to the station. Marina had insisted.
‘Let’s see what he has to say,’ she had said. ‘So we know what he’s doing and what we’re dealing with.’ Knowing she was right, Mickey had reluctantly agreed.
Now they stood there while Glass spoke. There was a gleam of triumphalism in his eyes.
‘I’ve received new information,’ he announced to the room, ‘about the abductor of the boy Finn from the hospital. I know where he’s taken him. If we’re in time, we can stop him.’
Marina and Mickey exchanged looks. This wasn’t what they had expected to hear.
‘He’s taken the boy to an abandoned farmhouse out near Wakes Colne on the way to Halstead. He intends to kill him. We have to make sure he doesn’t.
‘An armed response unit have been contacted and are on their way. I will personally be taking charge of this. I will lead the unit. This man is armed and dangerous. We’re taking no chances. Any questions?’
Mickey put his hand up. ‘Where did this information come from?’ Then adding, ‘Sir.’
Glass looked irritated by the question. ‘A confidential informant, DS Philips. I’m not at liberty to disclose that information.’
But Mickey kept going. ‘Was it the one I’ve just had in the interview room?’
‘Steady,’ Marina whispered to him.
Glass was clearly annoyed now but couldn’t show it with the whole room watching him. ‘As I said, DS Philips, I’m not at liberty to say.’
‘Will there be anybody from here on this team with you?’ Mickey asked. ‘We are MIS after all.’
‘No,’ said Glass. ‘I’m the only one here who is firearm-trained. I’m the logical choice. I also don’t want to give out a location for this farmhouse at the present time, as that information might leak and the abductor could run. And we wouldn’t want that.’ He looked quickly round the room, ready to stifle any more dissent. ‘If there are no further questions, I must prepare. This is going to reflect well on the whole department. A huge morale boost, a great collar. Thank you.’
He walked out from behind the desk, through the room, past Marina and Mickey and swept out of the office. Silence followed his departure.
Marina turned to Mickey. ‘Was that a “once more unto the breach” moment?’
People around her laughed. Mickey didn’t.
‘What was all that about?’ he said to her. ‘Where did he get that information from? Lynn Windsor?’
‘I don’t think it matters,’ said Marina. ‘He’s playing a different game.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I’ve got to make a phone call.’
‘Who to?’
‘To your boss. Your proper boss. I think the team need a real briefing. Come on. We can’t stay here.’
She turned and left. Mickey, confused but excited, followed.
109
The Hole in the Wall pub wasn’t one of Mickey’s favourite places to go in Colchester. In fact, it was one of his least favourite.
He associated it with the remnants of the town’s counterculture: indie kids, real-ale drinkers and students. Arty types, attracted by the theatre across the road. All mismatched wooden furniture and vintage leather sofas that you could sink into. That was the trouble. Once you were sunk in there, that was the day gone. And before you knew it, your life. Sitting there with your mates, drinking, arguing about something you’d read in the Guardian, dissecting the latest book or film or album, sorting the world out before it was your round. Even as a student he hadn’t enjoyed places like this. They had made him feel uncomfortable. It was the waste. Talking when you could be doing something. But that, he thought, tipping his head back and putting the lager bottle to his lips, was just him.
Despite the alcohol, it wasn’t a social gathering. They had needed somewhere to meet,
not too far from the station, just far enough to not be discovered. And the pub was perfect. The last place a clandestine police briefing would be expected to take place in.
Mickey looked round the table. Marina was sitting next to Phil, the pair of them looking a lot friendlier and more content than they had been recently. On the other side of Phil was Don Brennan. The older man looked thrilled to be back in the fray again. Rejuvenated. And enjoying the pint of dark beer that was in front of him. Across the table were two SOCA officers, Fennell and Clemens. Clemens seemed angry, itching to go. Fennell more measured. He, thought Mickey, would be the more approachable of the two. Although the way they sat, backs straight, wearing near-identical suits and ties, they could have been Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses.
It was late afternoon. The pub was in its post-lunchtime lull, before the evening busy spell. Darkness was creeping in through the windows. They had managed to secure the largest table, furthest away from the bar. They went overlooked and unheard. But they kept their voices down just in case.
Phil made introductions, looked round the table. ‘You’ll be wondering why I’ve gathered you all here,’ he said, smiling grimly. The smile dropped. ‘Everyone’s been brought up to speed. Everyone knows what’s happening. It looks like this is the MIS team, not what’s going on over in Southway.’
No one argued.
‘Now we know the shipment’s coming in tonight. But there’s been an added complication. Mickey?’
‘Glass won’t be there,’ he said. ‘He’s just announced that he’s found the whereabouts of the Gardener, and he’s leading a firearms team against him.’
‘And he has to do that tonight?’ said Clemens.
‘It’s a smokescreen,’ said Marina. ‘Something to divert attention away from his shipment arriving at Harwich. He establishes an alibi for himself and makes a high-profile arrest at the same time.’
And we miss out on him,’ said Fennell.
‘Not necessarily,’ said Phil. ‘You’ve still got his DNA all over Donna Warren’s house. As well as Donna’s first-hand testimony. You can get him that way. Plus the other Elders might want to roll over on him for a bit of leniency.’