‘He thinks I’m sitting on a kilo of coke.’
Penrith grinned, delighted. ‘Stupid arse. Some people would believe anything.’
‘What are your plans?’
‘My plans? You’re the one with the drugs to sell.’
‘I think he might notice if I turn up with a shitload of talcum powder.’
‘It won’t come to that. Let him talk to his friends, then lead us to Ryan Glennister.’
Caelan pursed her lips. ‘Isn’t this all too convenient? I happen to meet Marcus Crowley, who happens to be linked to Ryan Glennister, the man we’re desperately trying to find?’
‘Maybe. But you met Crowley because of Frankie Hamilton, who we knew had links to dealers in Edmonton. From there, it’s not much of a leap.’
‘Have we any idea who Ryan Glennister’s involved with?’
‘No. He doesn’t have a criminal record, as you know.’
She slammed her hands down on the arms of her chair. ‘This is ridiculous. Why can’t we find him?’
‘You know why. He lives like a rat, darting from place to place. How do you track down a single rat when the city’s full of them?’
‘Almost poetic. The two blokes who attacked Crowley then. They can’t have vanished.’
‘But they have, for now. Achebe’s got officers on it. I can’t help it if they’re not working quickly enough for your liking.’
‘One of our officers is missing.’
‘As I’m aware.’ Penrith ran a hand over his eyes. ‘You think I don’t care?’
She knew he did, but it wouldn’t help Liv Hobbs. ‘How do you want me to play it with Crowley?’
‘Wait for him to come back to you. Then you set up a deal. You’ve done it before. Let them suggest a time and place. For now, it’s all we have.’
Caelan shook her head. ‘They’ll want a sample. You know how it works. I won’t have one.’
‘We’ll move in before then. Arrest you too, nice and tidy. Then, when we’ve got Glennister—’
‘You’re assuming he’ll be there. What if he isn’t?’
‘I don’t know, Caelan. But what else do we have?’ He looked exhausted.
‘If it goes wrong, if they guess I’m lying…’
‘We’ll lose Crowley, Glennister, whoever he’s working for and the whole shebang. I know. Let’s hope Crowley leads Nicky to Glennister instead.’
‘Have you heard from her?’
‘No, but she’s out there alone. Your friend Ewan was wandering around like a lost child. I had to stand him down.’
‘What?’
Penrith held up his hands. ‘My fault. I should have realised he might jeopardise your position with Crowley.’
Caelan scrambled to her feet. ‘I need to get back out there.’
‘Let Nicky handle it. If Crowley sees you, realises you’re waiting for him to make a move…’
She stood looking down at him, hands on hips, her mind working. ‘What if…’
‘What?’
‘What if Liv Hobbs is involved in this somehow?’
‘Caelan—’
‘Hear me out. We’ve only her word for it she was estranged from her brother.’
‘What are you suggesting? She was helping him stay out of prison all these years? She ordered him killed herself?’ Penrith rolled his eyes. ‘Even for you, it’s fanciful.’
‘We’re missing something, Ian. Achebe and his team are chasing their tails. We’ve no witnesses, forensic evidence is non-existent. Even if Liv Hobbs isn’t involved, why snatch her? She has to know something.’
‘She would have said so. Her record’s exemplary.’
Caelan frowned. ‘Why did she transfer to South Harrow station?’
‘No idea.’
‘It wasn’t because of her promotion?’
Penrith didn’t have to check. ‘No. Does it matter?’
‘No idea, but she knew Ben Rainey at Limehouse. Rainey knew Anthony Bryce, whose information set the Edmonton operation in motion.’ Caelan pinched her lower lip. Was it relevant? Did it matter? She had no idea, but it had to be worth doing some digging. ‘I’ll go and speak to Liv’s former colleagues at Limehouse station, then her husband again. Maybe he can help.’
‘Waste of time.’
‘Then give me instructions. You don’t want me in Edmonton. What shall I do?’
Penrith closed his eyes. ‘All right. But try not to wind Adam Waits any tighter. Hasn’t he had a go at you once today already?’
‘He was distressed, lashing out.’
‘And you think he’ll be calmer now?’
Caelan was already opening the door.
* * *
An hour later, she was sitting in a marked police car beside Adrian Dennis, the officer who had been identified by Achebe’s team as the colleague Ben Rainey had been closest to. She had read through what he had said to Jen Somerville when she had broken the news of Rainey’s death to him. Apart from his obvious distress and shock, he had mentioned little of note, unable to throw any light on his friend’s murder. Looking at him now, his uniform damp from the drizzle that had begun to fall as she had arrived at Limehouse station, Caelan saw the resentment at being forced to face his loss again. She folded her hands in her lap, steadied herself. She was here because she hoped he could help her discover the truth about what had happened to his colleague and friend.
Dennis sat with his hands clenched around the steering wheel of the car, not looking at her. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say. Ben was a good officer, and he was my mate.’ He blinked, swallowed a few times. ‘He was well liked here, someone you’d want at your side if things kicked off. Ask anyone. Ben was the last person to deserve what happened to him.’
‘I’m not suggesting anything different.’ Caelan glanced at him, taking in the hunched shoulders, the set jaw. Why so defensive? ‘You must have wondered why he was killed?’
Dennis turned his face away, looking out of the window beside him. ‘I haven’t wanted to think about it. Ben’s gone, and he’s not coming back. I’ll leave wondering why someone killed him to you lot.’
‘Did he ever mention someone called Anthony Bryce?’
‘No. I’d never heard of Bryce until he was killed.’
‘You were questioned again?’
‘Briefly.’
‘Do you recognise any of these names: Ryan Glennister? Marcus Crowley? Aaron Jacob?’
Dennis shook his head each time. ‘How do you know Ben’s death is even related to work? Couldn’t he have pissed off the wrong person, stepped in to break up a fight or something?’
Caelan realised Dennis knew nothing of the torture his friend had been subjected to. ‘Would he have done that?’
‘Yeah, definitely. He may not have been a copper long, but his job was important to him. He said it was like being a doctor – we’re never off duty.’
‘Never off duty. Right.’ Caelan repeated the words, remembering Rainey’s presence in the brothel in Hackney. Had he been there because he’d been told about the underage girls, the drugs they were being given? Had he wanted to find evidence to prove they were being kept there against their will? ‘Did Ben ever talk about a place in Hackney?’
‘Hackney? No. He lived in Northolt.’
‘What about drugs?’
‘Drugs?’ Dennis rounded on her. ‘Look, what is this? You’re accusing Ben of being a druggie now?’
Caelan held up a hand. ‘Calm down. No. I know what caused Constable Rainey’s death, and it wasn’t an overdose.’
Dennis licked his lips. ‘How did he die?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘We weren’t given details. They just said suspicious circumstances.’
Should she tell him? Strictly speaking, no. But as Rainey’s colleague, his friend, she could understand his need to know. ‘Ben was stabbed.’
Silence. Then, ‘Stabbed. And you don’t know who by?’
‘It’s… complicated.’
‘Is i
t?’ Dennis released the steering wheel, bunching his fists in his lap. ‘Why?’
She didn’t want to mention the torture. It would conjure images no friend of Rainey should be forced to have in their mind. ‘There were no witnesses, no suspects. No forensic evidence.’
‘You mean you’ve still not got a clue what happened?’ The scorn was clear in his voice. ‘It’s been weeks.’
‘I know. If you can help, if you know anything…’
‘I don’t.’ Dennis folded his arms. ‘If I could help, I would, but it looks to me as though you’re clutching at straws.’
You’re not wrong, Caelan thought. She decided to change tactics. ‘What about Liv Hobbs?’
Now he looked at her. ‘Detective Inspector Hobbs?’
‘She was based here, wasn’t she? Before her transfer?’
‘Yeah, but…’ Dennis shook his head. ‘Why are you asking about her? What does she have to do with Ben’s death?’
‘Please, humour me. What did you think of her?’
He looked bemused. Caelan could sympathise. ‘I barely saw her,’ he said eventually. ‘She was friendly, always smiled if you passed her in the corridor, but she’s a DI, I’m a uniformed bobby. We didn’t mix socially. You know how it is.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Or maybe you don’t.’
Caelan ignored the comment. She had done her own stint in uniform, and wondered now if she should have stayed there, climbing the ladder in a different way. ‘Do you know who Ben saw socially?’
He hesitated. ‘I sometimes had a few beers after work with him. Me and some of the others from our shift. No one in particular. They were all spoken to when we were told Ben had died.’
He was keeping his cards close to his chest. Caelan wondered why. ‘What about girlfriends?’
‘I’m married.’
‘Ben wasn’t.’
‘Well, he mentioned the odd name. I don’t think there was anyone special.’ Dennis shuffled. ‘I told the other officer all this.’
He had, Caelan knew. All the same, his manner had changed. ‘Listen, Adrian.’ Was she really going to do this? But he knew something, she was sure. ‘You need to keep this to yourself. Before he died, Ben was hurt. Badly hurt.’
He stared at her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, we believe he knew something, and whoever killed him was prepared to inflict a lot of pain to find out what it was.’ Caelan took a breath, hating herself. It was a low blow, but she had no choice. Adrian Dennis had gone pale. ‘And Ben wasn’t the only victim.’
‘You mean he was tortured?’ Caelan didn’t answer, and Dennis held his hands to his cheeks. ‘The other bloke, what’s his name, Bryce too? Fuck.’
‘If you know anything, Adrian, please tell me.’ Caelan thought of Liv Hobbs, missing and vulnerable.
Dennis’s face tightened. ‘I don’t.’
Caelan said nothing, waiting to see if he would fill the silence. He didn’t. He knew her game. ‘Is there anyone who might be able to help me?’
‘Don’t think so.’
She began to open the car door. ‘Thanks for your time.’
Dennis turned in his seat. ‘Why did you ask about Liv Hobbs?’
‘What?’ She didn’t want to mention Liv being missing, but she would if she had to.
‘Isn’t her brother some big-time dealer?’
‘Yeah, but he’s in prison now.’
He nodded. ‘It’s just, one time, I saw them talking.’
‘Who?’
‘Ben and DI Hobbs.’
‘They were talking together?’
A nod. ‘Ben and me, we’d just finished our shift. I’d been to the loo, and when I came out, they were standing by the lockers, having a chinwag. No reason for her to be there; she didn’t have a locker, she shared an office. When they saw me, she walked away.’
‘Could be meaningless. Maybe she was asking if he had some painkillers, or change for the vending machine.’
‘Maybe. But I asked him about it, took the piss – senior officer, older woman and all that. And Ben, he usually played along, he liked a laugh, but not that time. He didn’t want to talk about it.’
‘And you let it go?’
‘Yeah. I actually thought she’d been having a quiet word, giving him a bollocking, and he was pissed off, you know? Embarrassed.’
‘Did she have a reason to? Had he done something wrong?’
‘Not as far as I know, but he could have. I didn’t always work with him.’
Caelan met his eyes. ‘You didn’t mention this when Ben died.’
He squirmed. ‘I didn’t think. It was six, seven months ago. The whole thing lasted about five seconds. She left soon after, and I forgot about it until you mentioned her name.’
‘But you weren’t going to tell me.’
‘Well, Ben’s dead.’ His voice caught, and he coughed. ‘I didn’t think it was relevant if he got told off six months ago by a woman neither of us has seen since. How could it matter?’
Caelan had no idea, but it was new information. There had been little enough over the past couple of days.
* * *
Caelan knocked on the door of the house Liv Hobbs shared with her husband, bracing herself. The door was flung open, and Adam Waits stood glaring at her.
‘Have you found her?’
‘Not yet. I’m sorry.’
‘Then why are you here?’ He looked over her head and down the street, as if expecting to see his wife walking towards him. ‘Where the hell is she? No one’s telling me anything.’
‘Mr Waits, could I come in?’
‘Why? I’ve already got a constable in here with me, sitting on his arse when he could be out looking. When I could be out looking.’
‘You know we can’t allow that.’
He lifted his chin. ‘You think you could stop me?’
She stared back at him. ‘I’d have a go.’
‘Got a Taser, have you?’ He eyed her. ‘You’d need it.’
‘I need to ask more questions about Liv.’
Waits scowled. ‘Because that’ll help.’
Caelan said nothing; just stood her ground and stared him down. He gave in, moved back. She followed him into the living room, where a uniformed constable stood, his face red. Caelan smiled at him.
‘Would you mind sticking the kettle on, please?’
‘Not more bloody tea.’ Waits threw himself down on the sofa, snatching his phone from the arm and staring at it. ‘Why isn’t she calling me back? I don’t understand why you haven’t found her yet. The baby…’
‘I understand this is upsetting, but—’
‘Upsetting? My wife and unborn child are missing. I want to be out there searching for her, not waiting here with a babysitter.’ Waits rubbed his eyes. ‘What you said to Liv about her accident. Is the crash related to her disappearance?’
Caelan remained standing. ‘It’s possible.’
‘Then… Fucking Jackson. Still ruining her life, even though he’s dead.’
‘You think this is about Jackson?’
A bark of laughter. ‘Isn’t it always? Liv turned her back on him, but the name follows you around.’
‘Especially if you don’t change it when you get married.’
Waits narrowed his eyes. ‘It was her choice. Why should she? It was her name as well as his.’
‘But if she was so keen to distance herself from her brother, from her family, it was an ideal chance to do so, wasn’t it?’
‘She said there was no point. Everyone would still know who she was.’ Waits clutched his phone tightly, as though having it close might make it ring.
‘Let’s be honest, the name gave Liv some status, didn’t it?’ Caelan said. ‘Some notoriety? She might be a copper, but she was also a Hobbs from Edmonton. It meant respect, especially amongst people involved in the drug scene. People knew Jackson’s name, and once Liv introduced herself – well, it would give her an edge.’ She watched Waits, prepared for the inevitable explosion, but he ju
st shook his head.
‘Maybe. Maybe you’re right. But what does it matter? Not going to help you find her, is it?’
‘I don’t know. Liv told me she still had friends in Edmonton. Do you know who they were?’
‘I gave the names to Achebe and Jen. They’re people she knew at school, or old neighbours. Mostly women with young kids. I can’t see any of them grabbing Liv off the street.’
‘What about their partners?’
‘No idea. But Liv…’ He screwed up his face. ‘She hadn’t seen any of them in person for years. She kept in touch by text or on social media, but that was all. She’d never met their husbands, kids or boyfriends. How could any of them be involved? It’s got to be about Jackson.’
Caelan wasn’t going to say it, but she suspected he was right. ‘Did Liv talk to you about Ben Rainey and Anthony Bryce?’
His lips twitched. ‘They’re the men who were killed? Yeah, she mentioned them, and I’ve seen it in the news. I didn’t want her to think about it, not when she was off sick. Not after the accident, and what you said to her.’
Caelan waited to see if he would work out her concerns about Liv’s disappearance being linked to the deaths of Rainey and Bryce, but he kept his gaze on the floor. Should she mention it? It might distress him further, but it was a risk she had to take. As she considered how she would phrase what she had to say, his head jerked up.
‘You don’t think the bastard who killed Rainey has Liv?’
‘We don’t know, but we have to consider it.’
Waits groaned. ‘He was tortured, wasn’t he? The other bloke too? Shit, what if they’re doing the same to Liv?’ He jumped up, looking around wildly. ‘I need to get out of here.’
The constable appeared in the doorway, three mugs in his hand. ‘I don’t want any more fucking tea,’ Waits spat.
‘Please sit down, Mr Waits,’ said Caelan. She didn’t raise her voice, but Waits looked at her, wrapping his arms around himself.
‘I can’t just sit here, I need to—’
‘Drink your tea, and please try to answer my questions. We’re doing everything we can to find Liv. Believe me, her colleagues are as worried as you are.’
Waits gave a snort of derision. ‘Really? Somehow I doubt it.’
Tell No Lies Page 26