Tell No Lies

by Tell No Lies (retail) (epub)

‘Which he gave to me because he trusted me, and not DCI Achebe’s officers.’

  ‘It’s not a point-scoring exercise, Caelan.’

  ‘Considering that Nicky, Richard and I were sent in with no real brief or direction, I think we’ve done okay. We’ve brought you names, leads. How’s Richard doing?’

  Penrith was rummaging in his coat pocket. He brought out a handkerchief and blew his nose. ‘He’s banged up with the former cellmate of Aaron Jacob.’

  ‘Has he heard anything?’

  ‘Give him a chance, he’s only just arrived. Apart from a lot of farting and shouting, I doubt it.’

  ‘What’s being done to find Liv Hobbs? How do we know she hasn’t just gone to see a friend or decided to do some shopping?’

  ‘We don’t, but her husband’s insistent she wouldn’t have changed her plans without at least sending him a text. She never arrived at her parents’ house. Achebe’s got a full-scale search in progress.’ Penrith raised his eyebrows. ‘After Rainey and Bryce, let’s hope she’s in one piece when she turns up.’

  ‘If someone wants information from her…’ Caelan didn’t give her brain the time to imagine the scene. ‘You know she’s pregnant?’

  ‘Achebe said.’

  ‘I saw her this morning.’ Caelan explained, and Penrith gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

  ‘Did she see you?’ he asked.

  ‘I made sure she didn’t. Does she know about the operation continuing in Edmonton? I know she was involved in the early stages.’

  ‘She shouldn’t.’ Penrith paused. ‘She knew Rainey, didn’t she?’

  ‘To say hello to, I was told.’

  ‘She’s Jackson Hobbs’ sister, she knew Ben Rainey, and she was involved in the drugs op in Edmonton. Now she’s disappeared.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘Me neither, and DCI Achebe was horrified.’

  ‘Well he might be. They’re trying to trace her phone. I’ll let you know if they find pieces of her body next to it.’ Penrith turned to face her. ‘Go to Edmonton. I’m trusting you here, going against explicit orders to take you off the case. I want Liv Hobbs home in time for cocoa.’

  ‘Right. Are we being issued with magic wands now?’

  Penrith wasn’t amused. ‘You’re supposed to be the best we have. Prove it. Achebe’s officers are talking to your boyfriend, Frankie Hamilton. He’ll be on his way back to Edmonton soon enough. I want to know what he’s up to.’

  ‘Has he told us anything?’

  ‘Not yet, and I doubt he will, since we don’t know what questions to ask. We’ll ask him about DI Hobbs, but we don’t want a missing police officer to be lead story on tonight’s news.’ Penrith glanced at his watch.

  ‘What about Nicky? Have you spoken to her?’ Caelan didn’t want to have to talk to Nicky herself. The current situation was complicated enough.

  ‘She’s been informed. She’s watching Marcus Crowley’s snooker club.’

  Caelan pounced. ‘Then you do think he’s involved?’

  ‘Not necessarily, but he’s worth keeping on the radar because of his potential drug interests, and the possibility of gang involvement, even if it was a while ago. Sounds like he’s shady enough to justify our time.’

  ‘Has Crowley spoken to anyone about me yet?’

  ‘I don’t know. If he does, he’ll be told what he wants to hear.’

  Penrith’s phone began to ring. He pulled it from his coat pocket, checked the screen. ‘Achebe,’ he told Caelan, then spoke into the phone. ‘Tim? Any news?’

  Caelan watched his face, though she could tell nothing from his expression. When he put the phone away, she said, ‘Well?’

  ‘They traced DI Hobbs’s phone to an area of Edmonton, and have just had a vanload of uniforms out searching. They found it in a skip.’

  Caelan blinked at him. This was not good news. ‘A skip?’

  ‘Outside a house, on top of a roll of carpet. Seventeen missed calls from her husband, several from Tim Achebe and Jen Somerville, but no sign of DI Hobbs herself. They’re pulling whatever CCTV they can from the surrounding area, but it’s mainly residential. There won’t be much.’

  ‘Didn’t any of the locals see anything?’

  ‘Door-to-door’s ongoing, but most of them are out, probably at work.’ Penrith pursed his lips. ‘I think we have to assume she got into a vehicle, either of her own free will, or she was forced to.’

  Caelan nodded. Horrible though the thought was, it made sense. ‘Or she’s in one of the houses. I was hoping she’d gone to see a friend, forgotten the time and not charged her phone, but now that it’s been found…’

  ‘You don’t leave your phone behind unless you’re forced to.’ Penrith looked grim. ‘Hobbs is an adult, not to mention a police officer. She knows better than to go off with strangers.’

  ‘But if it were someone she recognised, or they seemed to recognise her…’ Caelan thought about it. ‘No, I think she must have been forced. She would have done as she was told to protect the baby.’

  Penrith rocked back on his heels. ‘We’re wasting time. Extra officers have been drafted in to look for Liv Hobbs, and the tech people are seeing if there’s anything on her phone or computer that could help us. We’re questioning her parents, her other brother, and anyone her husband can remember her mentioning from Edmonton. I don’t have to remind you what happened to Ben Rainey and Anthony Bryce. We don’t want a repeat performance.’

  ‘If they know she’s a police officer, which they no doubt do, they must think she can tell them something, especially considering the link to her brother.’

  Frowning, Penrith checked his watch again. ‘They’ll probably use Jackson’s death as a warning; point out how even locked away in prison they were able to get to him.’ He sucked his teeth. ‘This is a nightmare. Go and see what you can do. I’ll phone when I know more.’

  * * *

  Nicky Sturgess was tired and cold, the brick wall she was leaning against leeching the warmth from her bones. She dug her hands deeper into her jacket pockets, hunching her shoulders and tucking her chin into her collar. She had been waiting for a couple of hours in an alley opposite the snooker hall Penrith had ordered her to watch, and no one had left or entered. Why she was here, she’d no idea, but Penrith had been insistent. Something to do with Caelan, he’d said. The familiar ache echoed around Nicky’s chest as she thought about her colleague, her former lover. She had hurt Caelan, and damaged their relationship beyond repair, and she couldn’t forgive herself. It was true that when she had gone into hiding she had been following the commands she had been given, but she knew Caelan was right. She should have told her, trusted her. Caelan would not have let her down. Nicky had spent long hours berating herself for her stupidity, for allowing her ambition and concern for her career to blind her to what was truly important. If the situation had been reversed, if Beckett had told Caelan she was being removed to a safe house for her own safety, that her family and friends would be informed of her death, Caelan would have told the Assistant Commissioner where to go. But Nicky had taken a familiar route – passivity. As she had so often in her life, she had simply done as she was told.

  After the attack that had supposedly ended Nicky’s life, Caelan had run to her, bloodied and battered, cradling what she had believed to be Nicky’s dead body. And Nicky had lain there, played dead, allowing Caelan to be dragged away, weeping, by their colleagues. Caelan was the only person who had ever seen past the persona Nicky had worn at work, the one she had always worn for her family, and loved her – the real her.

  And she, Nicky, had destroyed everything.

  She wasn’t stupid. She knew she had betrayed Caelan in the most devastating way possible. They could never go back, not now, and Nicky had begun to accept it. She had offered her resignation to Ian Penrith, then to Assistant Commissioner Beckett. Both had refused to even read the letter. Her request for a transfer had been ignored. She rubbed her eyes with chilly fingers. She was begi
nning to hate the job. Having realised who she really was, becoming someone else during working hours was increasingly impossible. And it wasn’t just a job, as she knew only too well. It was a way of life, one that devoured every other interest, hobby or even relationship. In Caelan she had found someone who truly understood. Now she had wrecked their chance, and she was coping in the only way she knew – by working, and not thinking.

  Movement across the street. Two men, walking in her direction with purpose. Remembering Caelan’s description of the men who had grabbed her, Nicky slid her hands from her pockets, adjusting her position so she was ready to move if necessary. She had chosen her vantage point carefully, and she knew she could back along the alley and join a busier street if she judged it necessary. The men weren’t chatting or laughing, and the skin on her forearms tingled. She stepped back, no longer able to see them, turned, and moved quickly. She was probably being ridiculous, but the news about the disappearance of Liv Hobbs had rattled her even more than the attack on Caelan had. She felt like an amateur, as though she had never been out in the field alone before.

  She darted silently down the alley and walked to the bottom of the adjoining street. Approaching the corner nearest the snooker club with caution, she leaned forward just enough to be able to see around it. The men were standing outside, one smoking, the other concentrating on his mobile. Nicky slid her own phone out of her pocket, made certain the flash was turned off, and took a photograph. Stepping back, she sent it to Penrith so he could forward it to Caelan, then deleted the picture. It wasn’t the best quality, but it was good enough to make out their faces. They were probably just going for a game of snooker, but Penrith had wanted to know about everyone who went into the place.

  Back at her post in the alley, she watched as the smoker flicked his cigarette butt into the gutter. As they disappeared through the hall’s entry door, Nicky wondered whether she should follow them inside. Her phone was still in her hand, and she decided to request instructions.

  ‘No,’ Penrith told her immediately. ‘Why would a woman go into a place like that alone? You’d arouse suspicion.’

  ‘But Caelan didn’t?’ Nicky didn’t care if he heard her irritation.

  ‘She was invited there. You haven’t been.’

  ‘Would you say the same to Richard?’

  He ignored the question. ‘I asked you to watch the place, not go barging in. Hang around for a while longer. I want to know if Marcus Crowley arrives.’

  He ended the call, leaving Nicky furious. She didn’t have Caelan’s number, or she would have called her, demanded to know if she recognised the men. There was no reason why they should be the same people who had grabbed Caelan, but the descriptions fitted, they were here in Edmonton, and they weren’t carrying snooker cues.

  Hunching her shoulders, Nicky blew on her hands, promising herself she would only wait for another hour.

  * * *

  Liv Hobbs opened her eyes to darkness, the pain in her head excruciating. She was quiet, listening, fear choking her throat, her heartbeat rocketing. She tried to remember where she was, what had happened, but came up blank. A hazy wisp of memory, walking down a street, familiar but blurred. Footsteps close behind her. Had she stumbled? She didn’t know. Then, with startling clarity, she remembered.

  The baby.

  She tried to move her right arm, but it was restrained, as was her left. Her feet wouldn’t move either, and she realised she had been bound to a chair. She tried to call out, but her mouth was taped. Panic filled her mind, flooded her body. She braced her feet and bucked. The chair screeched against the floor, but she was stuck, and she knew that if she tipped the chair over, if she fell, she wouldn’t be able to get up again. And – the same thought that had been a constant in her mind since they had found out for sure she was pregnant – she might harm the baby. Maybe whatever she had been drugged with had already done so.

  She closed her eyes, then opened them wide and told herself to focus. Fighting the restraints was not going to help. She had to think, to figure out who had brought her here, and why. Ben Rainey and Anthony Bryce had been bound to chairs, she knew, and she had no intention of ending up like them. She owed it to her unborn child to get out of this alive.

  Concentrating on breathing as evenly as possible through her nose, she looked around. The room was dark, but not completely. Her eyes were quickly adjusting, and she could make out shapes in the gloom. Where was she? She could smell petrol. A garage? A workshop? Or just a building by a road? She could hear the low hum of traffic, but it didn’t sound close. Was she still in Edmonton? There was no way of knowing.

  She sniffed, tears gathering in her eyes. She blinked them away. Crying wouldn’t help either. She needed to be strong, for the baby she carried, and for herself. If the people who had brought her here were the same ones who had tortured and killed Ben Rainey and Anthony Bryce, her chances of leaving this place alive seemed slim. But she couldn’t allow her thoughts to rampage out of control. She was the sister of Jackson Hobbs, and though she was a police officer, she knew more than she had admitted about his business activities. It wasn’t much, but might it be enough?

  Perhaps now was the time to begin to share her knowledge. Jackson was dead, and if spilling her guts meant she would live, then she would share what she knew with whoever was asking the questions.

  The time for loyalty was over.

  She remained still, hearing the rattle and clink of a metal chain, possibly a padlock being unlocked. Terror grabbed her gut again, but she lifted her chin. Whoever was about to confront her, they would be expecting a cowed and frightened prisoner. They were in for a surprise.

  There were two of them. Though the room was still in darkness, she could tell from the footsteps, from the sniffs and shuffling. Then a torch was clicked on, the sudden light shockingly bright, cutting through the gloom, blinding Liv for a second. She couldn’t see the person who was wielding the torch, just their hand, wearing a black leather glove.

  ‘You’re awake.’ A male voice, the accent local. Confused, Liv realised he sounded nervous. The beam of the torch was pointed to the ground and she heard him step towards her. ‘I’m going to take the tape off your mouth. If you scream, or speak other than to answer my questions, you’ll be drugged again, and this time you won’t wake up.’ He swallowed audibly. ‘Understood?’ The torch played over Liv’s face, and she nodded. ‘Remember what I told you,’ he said.

  Liv braced herself, but he was gentle, peeling the tape away as though removing a plaster from a child’s grazed knee. The beam of the torch was in her eyes, still blinding, and she closed them. ‘You know you’re making a—’ she began.

  The slap stung her cheek, though it wasn’t hard, more of a warning. Liv pressed her lips together, furious.

  ‘You were told not to speak. Last chance. You’re Liv Hobbs, yeah?’

  ‘You know I am.’ To Liv’s satisfaction, her voice was strong, almost defiant. She would not allow them to see how frightened she was.

  ‘And you’re a police officer?’

  ‘Detective inspector, as you’ll be aware if you’ve done your homework.’ Liv resisted the temptation to say more. If they wanted answers, let them work for them. She narrowed her eyes, trying to peer past the powerful torch beam. Who was the second person? She could see a vague outline, but no more.

  ‘You know your brother’s dead?’ The voice didn’t change. There was no triumph, no gloating. Just a simple statement of fact.

  Liv swallowed, forced herself to reply. ‘I’ve been informed.’

  ‘Want to know who killed him?’

  ‘It’s no secret. Geezer on his wing.’ Keeping her tone casual, conversational cost Liv dearly. She wanted to scream at them, demand to know what they thought they were doing, what they wanted. She wondered what they knew. What did they expect her to know? And if they brought out an iron, or a kettle of boiling water, what was she supposed to do?

  24

  Caelan glanced at her phone
as she emerged from Edmonton Green station. With her thumb, she tapped out a reply to Penrith. Whoever the two men Nicky had been watching were, it was possible they were the ones who had grabbed her and told her to give Frankie Hamilton their message. It was difficult to be sure, especially as she hadn’t seen their faces, and the photo Nicky had taken wasn’t the clearest. Penrith sent another text: Don’t leave the station. Caelan frowned, stepping to the side of the pavement, out of the stream of hurrying people. Rain was beginning to fall, the air chill and damp. Why had he sent such a cryptic message? It wasn’t like him to be coy. In their job, instructions tended to be explicit. Misunderstandings could lead to covers being blown, masks fading away. To injury, even death.

  Then she saw him.

  Ewan Davies, newest recruit to their unit, wearing a scruffy hoody and jeans, unshaven, walking as though he had just been kicked in the balls. Or as though he needed a fix. Caelan knew that his awkward gait was due to the pain from his damaged ribs, but no one else would. She had to admit, it was effective.

  She knew Ewan had seen her, but he gave no indication that he recognised her. She waited, seeing what he would do. He kept walking, head down, shuffling past her and out into the street. Her phone beeped. Penrith again: Go to your flat and wait. She deleted the texts and did as she was told.

  She had boiled the kettle, made two cups of tea before she heard a tap on the front door. Ewan looked sheepish, as if not sure of his welcome. Caelan decided to play along.

  ‘What do you want?’ She said it loud enough for any nosy neighbours to hear. There was no music coming from the flat below now, and Caelan was mindful of the way the occupants, Leon and April, had kept their eye on her. They were probably involved in nothing more than drug-taking, but it never hurt to be cautious.

  Ewan smirked. ‘Your mum said you had a new place. She soon told me where it was.’ He spoke naturally, not attempting an accent. His slight Welsh lilt was barely noticeable after years moving around during his army career.