Achebe shot her a look, his eyebrows lifting, mouth struggling to fight off a grin.
‘Even if Caelan and I are supposed to be sisters, we’ll have to be careful,’ said Nicky. Reid frowned, beginning to interrupt; Caelan talked over him.
‘Exactly. In fact, I think it’d be best if we pretended we don’t know each other at all.’
Nicky was nodding. ‘Richard? What do you think?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I agree. We should avoid each other. We can meet up if necessary, out of the area.’
For a second, Webster looked as though he might argue. Then he said, ‘You know what, you’re the experts. We’ll leave the details up to you.’
‘Good of you.’ Caelan smiled to take the bite off the comment. It wasn’t entirely successful. Webster set his jaw, but said nothing.
Reid was fiddling with the iPad. He held it up, turning it so they could all see the mugshot on the screen. ‘This is Frankie Hamilton. He’s due to be released from prison in a few days’ time. He was a well-known drug user, though he’s supposed to have cleaned up his act inside.’
‘Really. Found Jesus, did he?’ Webster sniffed. Reid ignored him.
‘His girlfriend’s moved on since Frankie went to jail. Had two kids with someone else – Frankie’s brother, as it happens. She hasn’t bothered to tell Frankie about her change of living arrangements, and we’re guessing he’ll be miffed when he finds out.’
‘Miffed?’ Caelan couldn’t help repeating.
Reid grinned. ‘We’re hoping it might prompt a relapse.’
‘You’re all heart. The idea is Frankie leads us to a dealer?’
‘Well, he might. Who knows?’
Nicky heaved a sigh. ‘But you know who the dealers are. You showed me photographs of them.’
Reid nodded. ‘And you said yourself you haven’t seen them. Where are they?’
‘A shallow grave. Prison.’ Caelan counted them off on her fingers. ‘Selling in a different borough, even a different town. Found a job with less chance of doing jail time or being killed.’
‘Point taken. We heard Frankie was coming out, and thought… Well, it seemed like something we could use.’
‘We’ll keep it in mind.’ Caelan smiled. Reid exchanged a glance with Webster.
‘Thanks, everyone, but we need to leave – we have another meeting,’ he said. ‘We’ll be in touch again over the next few days.’
After handshakes and exchanges of contact details, Reid and Webster left. Caelan pushed back her chair, crossing her legs.
‘A conference call would have done. I thought we were heading out today?’
‘That’s what I was told,’ said Adamson. ‘Nicky?’
She puffed out her cheeks. ‘No idea.’
Achebe was checking his phone. ‘I’ve got to shoot off too.’
‘Tim – Ben Rainey,’ Caelan said.
‘What about him?’
‘There’s been nothing in the news about his death, has there?’
‘Not that we’ve seen. No details, anyway. Not that we’d want there to be. The press decided he’d overdosed, or it was some gang-related dispute that wasn’t worth reporting.’ Achebe gave a grim smile. ‘A young black man found dead – what else could it be?’
‘The reporters didn’t know he was a police officer?’
‘I guess not. If they did, they didn’t care.’ Achebe pushed back his chair, began to stand.
‘A police officer murdered, and no press baying for blood? No public outcry?’
‘Like I said, it’s how we wanted it. His family agreed – they preferred to be left to grieve in peace.’
‘It’s understandable, but…’
Achebe was buttoning his jacket. ‘I’ll be honest – the investigation into Rainey’s death has been ongoing for three weeks. In that time, we’ve discovered nothing.’
‘You mean the investigation’s stalled?’ Caelan had only known Achebe for a few days, but she’d already formed an opinion of him and the way he worked. Allowing the death of a police officer to go unpunished would be unacceptable to him.
To them all.
He met her eyes, his irritation clear, though when he spoke, his tone hadn’t changed. ‘Believe me, we’ve been trying. I’ve been busy with other matters, as you know, but Liv, my DI, has been keeping me updated. Now that she’s out of action, I’ve been asked to lead the team looking for the people who killed Ben Rainey.’
‘And Anthony Bryce.’
‘Of course. That goes without saying.’
Does it? Caelan wanted to say. ‘You’re certain the two deaths are linked?’
‘Hard to believe they’re not.’
‘But you’ve found nothing the two of them have in common?’
He checked his watch. ‘Not yet. Caelan, I—’
‘Assistant Commissioner Beckett didn’t mention Ben Rainey’s murder.’
‘No doubt she was expecting me to tell you. Like I said, it’s been hushed up.’
Caelan snorted. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Beckett’s good at withholding information.’
‘She does what she has to.’
‘You think? Since it appears we’re not needed by our friends at the NCA today, I’d like to join the investigation into Rainey’s death. Is that okay?’
Pushing his hands into his trouser pockets, Achebe rocked back on his heels. ‘People who knew Rainey have already given statements, and no one could help us. We’ve no sightings of Ben Rainey the night we believe he was killed. CCTV cameras around the area he was found are scarce, and the footage we do have is useless.’
‘Where did he live?’
‘Northolt.’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘My favourite place.’ It wasn’t. A few days before, a young man Caelan was supposed to have been tailing had been shot and killed there. It hadn’t been her finest hour.
‘We’ve managed to find footage of him going into Northolt Underground station, and we’ve seen him on the train. He’s alone, talks to no one. He gets off at Oxford Circus, then we lose him.’
‘What about at Edmonton?’
‘The station there? No, we’ve not spotted him.’
‘But you think he travelled there on the Tube?’
‘From Oxford Circus, he could have taken the Victoria Line, gone to Seven Sisters. From there, you get on the Overground to Edmonton Green.’
‘But?’
‘Well, we haven’t picked him up anywhere, so perhaps he didn’t. Maybe he got a taxi, or a lift. I don’t know.’
‘Or maybe he was only taken to Edmonton after he was killed. What about his Oyster card? Have we checked if he used it that night?’
The look Achebe gave her was hard to read. ‘Yes, Caelan, but he didn’t. When his body was found and we searched his bedroom, we found the Oyster card.’
‘Meaning he used a Travelcard on the day he was killed?’
‘No one remembered selling him one – yes, we checked. He didn’t use his debit or credit card to buy one either.’
‘Then it’s possible he used cash, that he was being careful, covering his tracks. Interesting.’
‘Or it means nothing.’ He took a step backwards. ‘I need to leave, Caelan.’
‘Two seconds, Tim. Please?’
A sigh. ‘All right.’
‘What do we know about Bryce?’
‘As you know, it’s early days. He didn’t have a fixed address – the one he gave when he contacted us is empty. We’ve tried to track down his mother, who we assume is next of kin, but no luck so far. Listen, go to South Harrow. That’s where the incident room is. We didn’t want to base it here – too close for comfort. I’ll let them know you’re coming.’ He looked at Nicky and Richard. ‘What about you two?’
Nicky was frowning. ‘We should all report back to Commander Penrith.’
‘Is he in charge now?’ Achebe asked.
‘Since our old guv’nor’s been arrested for murder, yes,’ Richard told him. Achebe screwed
up his face.
‘Fair point.’ He was halfway through the door. ‘Seems I’ll be speaking to you all soon.’
4
Ninety minutes later, Caelan stepped off the train at Northolt and hitched her rucksack onto her shoulder. As she left the station and crossed the road, she didn’t allow her eyes to stray towards the entrance to the underpass where the man she had been following, the man she should have kept safe, had been killed only a few days before. Standing at the bus stop, she kept her head turned away as though looking out for a bus approaching. She had done her best to keep him alive, her hands and clothes stained with his blood when the paramedics arrived, but it had been futile. He had died on the operating table as the surgeons fought to save him. She blinked away the memory of the blood, and his mother’s devastated face. She was here to speak to another grieving family, and they deserved her full attention.
A bus took her close to Radcliffe Way, where PC Ben Rainey had lived with his parents and younger brother and sister. Large blocks of flats and maisonettes dominated the area. The Rainey family’s home stood at the edge of an expanse of concrete, facing a row of garages. There were ten properties, and Caelan found the number she was looking for on the door of the house on the bottom left of the block. Drifting from the property above through an open window came beautiful, haunting music and a voice singing in a language Caelan couldn’t understand. She stood and listened, the sounds of the street, of busy modern London, fading into the background.
‘Any reason you’re waiting outside our house?’
The question came from behind her. Caelan turned to see two teenagers. They wore black blazers and trousers, white shirts, blue-and-black-striped ties and quizzical expressions. Joseph and Miriam, Ben Rainey’s siblings. She smiled.
‘Yeah, sorry. I’m a police officer.’ She remembered her outfit – the jeans, the gaudy trainers. ‘Though I might not look like one today.’
Joseph inclined his head. ‘You got ID?’
Caelan unzipped her jacket and reached into the inside pocket. Usually, being undercover meant leaving your warrant card at home. Since she’d had to pack as much as she could carry at Nicky’s flat with no idea when she might be able to collect the rest of her belongings, her warrant card had been the first item she grabbed. She’d just have to be careful, or give it to Achebe or Beckett to lock away safely.
The boy took it, and he and his sister peered at it. Miriam looked Caelan up and down.
‘Why are you here?’ she asked.
‘I need to speak to your parents, and the two of you.’
‘About…’ She stumbled over the name, was unable to say it. ‘About my brother?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
Miriam screwed up her face. ‘More questions?’
‘Why haven’t you caught this…’ Joseph frowned, his mouth working. ‘Why haven’t you found him?’
Caelan took back the warrant card, pushed it into her pocket. ‘Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve only just been drafted onto the case.’
‘And what, you couldn’t read up on what we’ve told you people already? You had to come here to upset everyone all over again?’ Miriam’s voice was harsh, but Caelan could see tears in her eyes. Her brother stepped closer to her, the two of them moving towards their front door, blocking it from Caelan’s view. ‘We don’t want you to come in. Our mum and dad…’
‘They’re devastated.’ Caelan made it a statement, not a question.
Joseph scrubbed his eyes with his knuckles. ‘Can you blame them?’ He folded his arms across his chest. ‘They won’t want to see you, or talk to you. Can’t you leave us alone?’
Caelan paused. ‘I want to find the person who killed your brother, who did this to your family. I wouldn’t be here disturbing you if it wasn’t important, if I didn’t believe you can help me.’
Miriam pulled her bag higher on her shoulder. ‘We’ve answered questions, given statements. There’s nothing more we can tell you.’
‘Read the reports.’ Joseph twisted his features into a sneer. ‘You’re not coming in.’
‘Miriam? Joseph? What’s going on?’
Behind them, the door had opened, a man’s face appearing. Seeing Caelan, he stepped outside, slid an arm around each of his children’s shoulders. The gesture could have seemed like a warning, either to her or to his son and daughter, but there was no anger in his face. Weariness and defeat, but nothing else. Caelan turned as she heard footsteps behind her. A young constable was approaching – the uniformed presence she had requested. She didn’t know him, but it didn’t matter. He was here to observe, nothing more.
‘She’s from the police,’ Joseph was saying. ‘She wants to talk to us again. We told her—’
‘That you would fetch one of your parents, I hope?’ Charles Rainey spoke quietly, but with authority. Joseph bowed his head.
‘Sorry, Dad.’
His father smiled, took a step back. ‘Your mother and I don’t need looking after, you know.’
Miriam looked at Caelan. ‘Sorry. We just…’
Caelan smiled. ‘I understand. No problem.’
As Miriam and Joseph disappeared inside, Mr Rainey held out his hand for Caelan to shake. ‘I apologise. It’s been… a huge blow to our family. My children were trying to protect us, that’s all. A role reversal. Though we couldn’t protect Benjamin.’ He swallowed, blinking rapidly. Caelan waited, giving him time. ‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated.
‘Please don’t apologise. I wish it wasn’t necessary to disturb you again, but…’
‘There’s been another murder.’ Charles Rainey choked on the word. ‘They told me on the phone.’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Come inside, please, both of you.’
He stepped back to allow her into the house first. Inside, Caelan slipped off her shoes, nudged the uniform to do the same. Charles Rainey went into the kitchen, saying he’d make some tea.
‘What’s your name?’ Caelan whispered.
‘PC Daynes, ma’am.’
‘No need for the ma’am. First name?’
‘Jordan.’
Caelan blinked at him. ‘We really are getting younger.’
She led the way down a carpeted hallway to the living room.
‘Some police officers are here, Abigail,’ Charles Rainey called. As Caelan entered the room, Mrs Rainey was getting out of her chair, her hand outstretched. Caelan took it between both of her own.
‘I’m so sorry about your son,’ she said, as Mr Rainey came to stand beside his wife. Mrs Rainey managed a smile as they sat, waving Caelan into an armchair.
‘Thank you. Have you… Is there any news? Charles mentioned another murder.’ Her expression was fearful, her eyes tired, the lids appearing swollen. Caelan now wished she had stayed away. Ben Rainey’s parents had answered too many questions already.
‘That’s correct, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘I understand this is painful and difficult, but it’s possible that the victim discovered today was murdered by the same people who killed your son.’ Her stomach clenched as she said the words. They sounded stark, unsympathetic, but she could think of no other way of approaching the possibility of a link.
Charles Rainey was frowning. ‘Was this poor man a police officer?’
‘No, sir, but he was known to the police.’
‘You mean he was a criminal?’ Rainey’s lips thinned. ‘Our son didn’t know any criminals, Officer, except those he had contact with through his work. I’m not naïve, or stupid. I know there are gangs, drugs. Crime. But my children… My children would never get involved. They know right from wrong, they respect people, they attend church. They’re good kids.’
Caelan looked at him, seeing how much he needed to believe what he had said. All he had left to cling to was his belief in his family’s future.
‘I understand, sir. The man whose body was discovered today was called Anthony Bryce. Does the name mean anything to either of you?’
They looked at ea
ch other, thought about it. Then Abigail Rainey said, ‘No.’
Caelan pulled her phone from her pocket. ‘I have a photograph…’ She stood, handed Charles Rainey the phone.
He stared at the image on the screen, tilting the handset so his wife could see it too. ‘A mugshot?’ He looked up at Caelan, his disapproval clear.
She tried a smile. ‘It’s all we had.’
‘I don’t recognise him. You’re asking if our son knew this man?’ Rainey returned the phone. ‘We raise our children to have respect for the law, Officer. None of them have criminals for friends.’
‘I understand, but you’ll appreciate I need to ask.’ Caelan cleared her throat to give herself a second to phrase the next question. ‘You see, Anthony Bryce was the same age as your son.’ She looked at them, chose her words carefully. ‘I’m wondering if it’s possible they could have known each other at school, or maybe through a youth club or sports team? Bryce grew up in Hounslow, and still lived there.’
Ben Rainey’s parents exchanged a glance. ‘Benjamin went to the same school Miriam and Joseph attend,’ Charles Rainey said. ‘He used to run, but not competitively. He played for a local boys’ football team for a few years, but… I don’t remember anyone called Anthony.’
Caelan looked at Benjamin’s mother, who was frowning. ‘Mrs Rainey?’
‘No, there’s no one.’ She spoke quickly, her eyes on the carpet, her hands tightly folded in her lap.
Was she holding something back? Caelan waited, allowed the silence to stretch. No one spoke. Mr Rainey looked at her, his eyebrows raised, his eyes pleading with her. Leave us alone. He stood up slowly.
‘I’ll make that tea.’
Caelan smiled. ‘I’d like to talk to Miriam and Joseph too.’
‘Is it really necessary?’ Abigail Rainey picked up a cushion from the sofa, held it close.
‘This property has three bedrooms, does it, Mrs Rainey?’
‘Yes. Benjamin and Joseph shared a room.’ Her chin trembled. ‘Benjamin was saving to get a place of his own, but…’
‘London prices,’ Caelan said quickly.
‘That’s right. He looked for a house share, but with his job… He wouldn’t have wanted to disturb people, coming and going at all hours. Ben was so…’ The tears were falling now. Caelan shot Daynes a glance, and he jumped up, hurried out of the room. ‘He was considerate. He always wanted to be a police officer, you know. Since he was a boy.’ Emotion overcame her; she covered her face with her hands.
Tell No Lies Page 4