by Joy Ellis
‘Maybe we are paying already. Danny Wilshire certainly paid the highest price, and Cat has paid dearly too.’
‘But what for?’ exploded Nikki. ‘He’s doing my head in!’
‘If it’s any consolation, I think we’ll hear all about it very soon. As you say, if he’s a true game player, then he needs an opponent to pit his wits against.’ Joseph took a sip of hot coffee. ‘By the way, I’ve already contacted Vinnie Silver and he’s motoring up here this morning.’
‘I bet he loved you, calling him along with the dawn chorus.’
‘We went through a lot together, Nikki. He knows I’d never bother him if the situation wasn’t serious. He’s dropped everything for us.’
‘Where does he have to come from?’
‘Chislehurst in Kent. He reckoned by the time he’s picked up everything he needs, he could be on the road by eight and here around eleven, M25 providing.’ He took a forkful of food and chewed it. ‘He’s a top-flight guy. If anyone can spot Snipe’s covert surveillance equipment, he will.’
‘It’ll be nice to have an expert on our side.’ Nikki sat back. ‘I guess we’d better make a move soon. The super will need to know about last night’s drama and I should prepare the morning briefing.’
Joseph took her plate, placed it on his and walked to the dishwasher. ‘Yes, and I have a pile of things to put into motion too. I’m anxious to hear from ballistics about that gun. If we could just put the Magda Hellekamp case to bed we could really get to grips with finding out about your three other possibilities, French, Windsor and Bow.’
Nikki nodded. ‘You’re right, we need to track them down sooner rather than later.’ She stood up and pushed her chair under the table. ‘Thank you for that, Joseph. It’s the best start to the day I’ve had in years.’ She patted her stomach. ‘Fuelled up and ready to go.’
‘That reminds me. I’ve checked both vehicles to make sure that no one has tampered with them overnight. You are safe to drive.’
‘You think of everything.’
‘We aim to please.’ He gave a small bow, but his smile was forced.
They both knew that the joking was superficial, a way of coping, because the reality was that a simple slip-up, an accidental oversight, could cost them their lives.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cat had barely slept. Her night had been riddled with dark dreams filled with shadows and hidden menace. At one point she had found the anxious face of a male nurse hovering over her, trying to gently prise her from the grip of a nightmare.
She eased herself up in her bed and stared at the other patients on the small ward.
There were no open eyes, and that meant no one to talk to. There was a uniformed officer outside, but she knew not to distract him from his duty.
She sighed. She had been offered a private room, but although she had not yet been particularly friendly with any of the other patients, there was usually lots going on. Things to distract her. A quiet room would mean spending too much time in her own head, and listening to her thoughts was not something she relished right now.
Cat swung her legs carefully over the edge of the bed and braced her arms to ease herself up. For a moment she felt pretty well okay, then pain pulsed through her lacerated legs, making her gasp and swallow back a scream.
‘Come on, Cat. Deep breaths,’ she muttered to herself, drawing in air. And slowly the pain calmed down to a dull, throbbing ache. ‘Just a blood rush. Get over it.’
She shuffled off towards the toilets, watching the nurse’s station as she went, hoping that she would not be seen. They had insisted on gentle exercise, but only when accompanied, and her surgeon had stipulated that the bathroom, with its big mirrors, was out of bounds until he said otherwise.
And that was why Cat was hobbling in that direction so furtively.
It was no call of nature that drove her there, just curiosity, and the memory of a nightmare.
Cat closed the door behind her and cursed the lack of a bolt.
She had dreamed about seeing her damaged face for the first time.
The doctors had sat her on a wooden chair in a room with mirrored walls, ceiling and floor. She was suspended in a place that reflected her white-gowned self and the hard wood seat. Then they had peeled off the dressing and stepped back, leaving her to behold her new face.
In the dream, Cat had started to scream. The face that stared back at her, mocking and full of evil intent was that of Stephen Cox.
One whole side of her face was burnt into a melted mess of disfigurement. The skin was puckered, burnt, twisted and raw. And terror consumed her, until the nurse had brought her back into the real world.
Cat stood in front of the mirror. Nothing she saw now could be as bad as the nightmare. She eased a finger nail beneath the adhesive edge to the dressing and began to pull.
‘Morning, Cat. Up to no good, I see.’ Her personal nurse had opened the door and was beaming at her.
‘Ah, Angie.’ Cat let her hands fall to her sides. ‘Oh well, it’s a fair cop, guv. I’ll come quietly.’
‘Want to use the facilities while you’re here? Make your wasted trip worthwhile?’
Cat gave the woman a lop-sided smile. ‘Why not?’
‘Then I’ll wait here, and escort you back.’
‘Thought you might.’
Back on the ward, Angie helped Cat into her chair.
‘When can I go home?’ Cat asked.
‘In a day or so, as long as your blood pressure stabilises.’ Angie picked the medical chart off the end of the bed. ‘Today we’ll get you more mobile, and I understand someone from the counselling service is coming to talk to you this morning.’
Cat wasn’t looking forward to that. She knew it was routine and all officers who had suffered trauma, mental or physical, were offered counselling, but to her, that made it more real. It made her a victim, and she didn’t want to feel that way. Not now. Not ever. ‘And my face? When can I see it?’ She tried a smile. ‘I’m a police officer, Angie. Getting injured is always on the cards at some point. I won’t freak out, and I won’t threaten litigation, honest!’
‘I’m sure you won’t, but right now there is a lot of bruising, a lot of swelling and the surgery hasn’t had time to heal at all. It will look far worse than it really is, so,’ she raised her eyebrows, ‘it’s time for patience, I’m afraid. The surgeon is really pleased with you, and after the second op he has every confidence that scarring will be minimal.’
Cat nodded. ‘He told me the same.’ She sat back. ‘Okay. I don’t do too well with that “P” word, but I’ll try to be a good girl.’
After Angie had gone, Cat reached for her iPad, turned it on and waited for the Wi-Fi to connect. She moved the cursor to Messages and found one from Travis. She opened it immediately.
It was short and to the point. ‘Hi there, Old bag! Wanna visitor today?’
Cat replied ‘Morning, Nerd. You just want to gloat, don’t you?’
‘Me? How could u? I’m insulted. I shall phone the florist and cancel the get well bouquet.’
Cat gave a soft laugh and wrote. ‘OMG! I didn’t know you owned a wallet! How about this afternoon for that visit?’
After a while the answer came back. ‘CU at 4.’
Travis Taylor was one of the IT guys from the station. She had recognised a passionate and real talent in the odd young man and had spent a lot of time with him, trying to unlock the secrets of computer technology. In turn, Travis had seemed to like her company, and they had struck up an unlikely friendship, based on techno-jargon and good old-fashioned insults. Cat reckoned that you really have to like someone to slag them off to their face.
She decided that a visit from Travis would be just the kind of lift she needed. Considering he spent most of his time on another planet anyway, looks meant nothing to him. He was a cerebral person, and things like fashion, make-up and hair styles passed him by completely. Sadly, that often reflected in his personal appearance, which was usually retro, and
not in a cool way.
Cat knew that there was a very good chance that Travis wouldn’t even notice her dressings but dive immediately into a conversation about some new anti-malware tool that he’d designed. And that would suit her perfectly. Plus she had a few ideas of her own to put to her little computer wizard friend, and if he decided to help her, then maybe she would have something to keep her mind away from scarred faces, crashing cars and dead police officers.
With a painful but determined smile, Cat sat back and waited for breakfast.
* * *
At thirteen hundred hours, Nikki called the team into her office. The morning had been a head-spinning rush of information pouring in from all directions and she needed to collate everything they had.
‘Fast track ballistics report came in, boss.’ Joseph looked down at the document he was holding. ‘The striation pattern comparison between the bullet that killed Magda and the barrel of Aaron Keller’s gun are a match. So, although we cannot yet prove he pulled the trigger, we do know his precious .45 semi-automatic was the murder weapon.’
‘And as he spent a whole day driving his unsuspecting victim around in the guise of a chauffeur,’ added Dave, ‘I don’t think we need to look further for our killer. We just need to know how he got in and out of that bloody locked room.’
‘Well, I can’t answer that yet,’ said Joseph, ‘but the techies are trying out a hunch. Stuart and Travis are down at the Waterside Quay now, testing out some wacky theory about the security system. I didn’t understand a word of what they were saying, but they were pretty hyped up and they refused to clarify anything until they’d seen the place first hand.’
‘That’s encouraging, at least.’ Nikki sucked in air. ‘But what worries me is the fact that we may have earmarked the killer, but who paid him to do it? Anyone got anything on Magda’s mystery Internet play pal?’
Dave nodded. ‘Not much admittedly, but IT have managed to isolate a series of emails that have been made using something called a distorting proxy server.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Apparently that means that the IP address is hidden so we can’t trace it back, and however the sender managed to do it has our guys and girls foxed.’
‘But we can read the messages?’
‘Oh yes, and if you have a deep interest in robotics and genetic engineering, you’ll probably find them absolutely fascinating.’ Dave handed her three printouts. ‘I’ve passed them on to an expert to decipher for us.’
‘Who?’ Nikki asked suspiciously.
‘I spoke to Lawrence Carpenter and he suggested a local man, an agricultural specialist. He said he was trustworthy and he certainly seemed the DB’s when I saw him. I’m going back to pick his brains as soon as we’re through here.’ He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’s all right, guv. I ran him through the system first. Clean as a whistle and a golfing buddy of the ACC.’
Nikki relaxed, then grimaced, ‘Oh well, at least we know who to blame if he sells Magda’s secrets to the opposition.’
‘Do you think that’s what this is all about, ma’am?’ asked Yvonne thoughtfully. ‘Industrial espionage?’
‘It seems that way. Who else could afford a professional hit-man? And Magda was a long-term loner. It’s hard to think of her making such a dangerous enemy.’
‘I wish we didn’t know about her maniac stalker,’ mused Joseph. ‘I don’t like to think about such a dangerous psychopath being attracted to her in that way. If he was incarcerated at the time he couldn’t have been involved in her death, but he’s still there, skulking in the background, and it gives me the creeps.’
For a moment the group were silent, all trying to imagine how traumatised Magda had been by her stalker and his vicious attack on her cousin. For someone’s actions to leave you with a life-long phobia, it had to be truly terrifying.
‘I think we should leave things there, until we hear from your two techies, Joseph, and your expert, Dave. There’s not much more we can do until then.’ She looked gravely at her team. ‘Now, we need to talk about the threats made on us by Snipe.’
She sat back and in an emotionless voice, filled them in on the previous night’s activities.
‘Bloody hell, guv!’ Niall looked shell-shocked. ‘Whoever this Snipe is, he’s really got us by the short and curlies!’ His expression darkened. ‘Jeez! I’d like to get my hands on him.’
‘You and a station full of officers,’ growled Yvonne. ‘So how on earth do we go about finding his ID?’
Joseph answered. ‘Just between us, I’ve got an old army mate helping out. He’s at Cloud Fen now, posing as a surveyor. What he’s actually doing is checking whether our adversary is using covert surveillance equipment to watch us, and researching the possibility of using counter surveillance to get a fix on him.’
‘Mm, set a thief to catch a thief,’ murmured Dave. ‘I like it.’
‘If that’s how he’s working. Not that I can see another way to keep such close tabs on people.’
‘If my friend finds anything, I’ve asked permission for him to check out the external perimeters of the police station.’ Joseph looked grim. ‘Snipe might just enjoy his new hobby of copper-watching enough to keep an eye on here too.’
Nikki nodded. ‘Good idea. Now, moving on, do we have any reports on our three old cases that might have festered into someone taking revenge into their own hands? I’m talking about William French, Windsor Morton and Jeremy Bow.’
‘I’ve checked out Morton.’ Dave flipped over the pages of his pocket book. ‘He’s moved away, ma’am, to a small Moors village somewhere north of Pickering. He’s turned into a real Billy No-Mates, and everyone I spoke to said he’d given up his crusade and wanted nothing more to do with society. Hence the remote cottage surrounded by heather and sheep shit.’ He flipped over a page. ‘The local bobbies say that that they’ve had no dealings with him, other than a few complaints about him being aggressive to anyone who attempts to call at his cottage.’
‘And I tried to trace William French,’ stated Niall. ‘Tried — until I discovered that he was dead. He moved about a bit for a few years and was discovered lying dead on his father’s grave on the coldest night of winter. The alcohol levels in his blood were off the scale, and the inquest brought in death by misadventure. The coroner did not believe it to be suicide, although there were rumours that he had threatened to take his own life.’
‘And Jeremy Bow?’
‘Still around, and still causing a bit of trouble, but on a much lesser scale. His neighbours say he’s “gone a bit odd,”’ said Yvonne. ‘I thought the name rang a bell. We’ve been called out to a few disturbances where he was involved. Nothing that would have meant bringing him in, but he’s had several warnings over the last two years.’
‘But nothing to worry us? Nothing that indicated a serious change of mental condition?’
‘No, ma’am. Popular opinion has him as a right pain in the butt, not dangerous and not a real threat.’
‘We’ll need to speak to both Bow and Morton, and maybe have a word with the remaining members of the French family. You never know. If two of the family have died, there could be a close relative still harbouring a grudge.’ Nikki stretched, then looked again at Yvonne. ‘Now the million dollar question. Any luck with Stephen Cox?’
Yvonne glanced at Niall, then said, ‘We spoke to our snouts, ma’am, and Cox has been seen on the Carborough Estate.’
‘That was Monday of last week and he hasn’t been seen since,’ added Niall quickly.
‘The Carborough,’ Nikki almost whispered the words. Memories poured back. Bad ones. She glanced across to Joseph and he gave her a sombre nod.
The Carborough Estate had been the bane of their lives for years, a rat-hole of criminal activity and drug-dealing. But now it was changing and thankfully for the better. There had been riots a few years back, but after calm had been restored, some sort of normality had begun to creep in. People started to take a pride in their homes, and with encouragement from a tireless
group of enthusiastic residents, the Carborough was now becoming a regeneration project. So what was Stephen Cox doing there? Who would he be visiting?
‘Where on the estate, Niall?’
‘Eastern Street, guv. He was seen leaving the Fisherman’s Knot, just before closing time.’ Niall shrugged. ‘That fleapit is the last stronghold of the old guard.’
‘It’s the only place left where low life still hangs out.’ Yvonne turned up her nose.
‘Did your snout say who he met?’
‘’Fraid not. Cox was getting into a car by the time he was spotted.’
‘So his trip to Cyn City wasn’t a one-off. He’s hanging around.’ Nikki felt a sinking feeling inside.
‘Or was,’ Niall said flatly. ‘If he’s still here, he’s keeping a very low profile.’
‘We’ve left word with a few trusted souls to keep their eyes peeled, ma’am. If he shows, then we’ll know about it.’ Yvonne tried to look confident. ‘He’s a pariah in Greenborough. No one wants him here, believe me.’
A knock on the door interrupted her reply, and as she looked up she saw the chubby figure of DI Jim Hunter entering the room.
‘Sorry to interrupt but I thought you’d like to know that the vehicle that killed Danny had been reported stolen three weeks ago. There were no prints as the whole interior had been steam-cleaned and scrubbed with some powerful cleanser.’ He leaned back against the door frame, his body language speaking volumes. ‘Forensics have taken soil samples from the tyres and pollen and plant material from beneath the interior flooring for scientific analysis to try to pinpoint a location of where it had been kept, but . . .’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t hold out too much hope, and those tests take time.’ He gave her a helpless look. ‘Sorry it’s not better news.’
‘I didn’t expect anything else, Jim. Our guy is as slippery as they come. He’s hardly going to leave a handful of prints on the steering wheel for us.’
Jim nodded, straightened up and moved back through the doorway. ‘I’ll keep you posted, whatever.’
Nikki thanked him, then returned her attention to the team. ‘Well, guys, I hate to say this, but right now we seem to be in the hands of the IT department. I suggest we get together again as soon as Stuart and Travis are back from Magda Hellekamp’s apartment.’ She halted, then added. ‘And I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of this, but watch your backs, and watch each other’s too. We have no way of knowing where or when Snipe will strike again.’