Tell No Lies

by Tell No Lies (retail) (epub)

  He accepted the cup the constable held out to him with a curt nod. Caelan wrapped her hands around her own drink, took a sip, again formulating what she wanted to say. Waits had focused on Rainey when she had mentioned the two men, but not Bryce. Why? Because he recognised the name? Because Liv had known him?

  ‘Had Liv mentioned Ben Rainey before? When she worked at Limehouse?’

  Waits looked at her over the rim of his mug. His eyes cut to the constable, and Caelan read his meaning. ‘Could you give us a second?’

  The officer nodded, left the room again, closing the door behind him. Waits took another sip of the scalding tea, screwing up his face. ‘Who have you been talking to?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I didn’t think anyone knew about it.’ He was frowning, running one hand through his hair. Cradling the mug against his chest, he met Caelan’s eyes. ‘A while ago, Liv and I were having problems. You know what I mean.’

  ‘Marriage problems?’

  ‘If you like. We’d wanted a baby for so long, but it hadn’t happened. We’d been to doctors, given samples, been poked and prodded. Nothing worked. We were both absolutely gutted, possibly even depressed. Liv threw herself into her work, even more than usual, and I…’ He gulped. ‘I had an affair.’

  Caelan waited, watching his mouth work as he struggled to control his tears. When he spoke again, his voice was choked. ‘I’m not proud of it. It was stupid and weak, and it almost destroyed our marriage. It only lasted a couple of weeks, then I told her… I said I couldn’t carry on. Coming home to Liv, seeing her so quiet, so exhausted by it all. I knew I was going to lose her, and it gave me a kick up the arse. I realised what a shit I was being.’

  ‘Did Liv find out?’

  ‘I told her. She could see something was wrong, and I knew I had to. No, I wanted to.’

  ‘How did she react?’ Caelan couldn’t see how it was relevant, but at least Waits was talking rather than snarling at her. He gave a lopsided smile.

  ‘She heard me out, nodded, then left the house. I didn’t see her till the next morning.’

  ‘Where did she go?’ Caelan thought she could guess.

  ‘To give me a taste of my own medicine.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘The lad you mentioned, the one she worked with – Rainey. She seduced him. Came home the next day to tell me about it.’

  Caelan wasn’t shocked, but she was surprised. When she had visited Liv Hobbs at home, her relationship with her husband had seemed solid, secure. As she had seen many times in her work, though, outward appearances could conceal totally different truths. She could imagine the strain months and years of trying and failing to have a baby could put on a relationship. ‘What happened?’ she asked.

  Waits read her expression. ‘I didn’t go out and kill Rainey, if that’s what you mean.’ He forced a laugh. ‘Doesn’t look good for me, does it? But I never even met Ben Rainey. This was seven, eight months ago.’

  ‘Before Liv left Limehouse?’

  ‘Yeah. After it happened, we realised we’d both been stupid. Instead of talking about what had happened – the problems we’d had trying to have a family, I mean – we’d both put a brave face on and gone about our lives.’ He sniffed. ‘And we ended up pushing each other away. It sounds stupid, but the pair of us being unfaithful probably saved our marriage.’

  ‘And Liv asked for a transfer, away from Limehouse.’

  ‘She didn’t want to keep seeing Rainey every day. She’d made it clear there was no chance of it being anything more than a one-night stand, even if he wanted it to be, which I don’t think he did.’

  Caelan wondered, remembering what Adrian Dennis had said. ‘And Ben accepted that?’

  ‘A no-strings night with an older woman – why wouldn’t he?’ Waits spoke lightly, but she could see the thought hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

  ‘How did you feel about it?’

  He grimaced. ‘At first, I was furious, kept imagining them together, him touching her… But I knew it was payback, my own fault. Tit for tat, if you like. Liv swore it wouldn’t happen again, and I believed her. I suppose she used him, but I don’t think he was complaining.’

  ‘Well, Ben’s dead, so…’ Caelan raised her eyebrows, deliberately needling him, but Waits remained calm.

  ‘I know. Makes me feel like shit. I mean, I hated him, but I’d never wish him dead.’ He shuddered, and Caelan had to admit the horror appeared genuine.

  ‘And now? How’s your relationship with Liv?’

  ‘Now?’ Waits met her eyes. ‘We’re good. Great, in fact. And we’re having a baby.’ His face closed, the strain of the past few hours showing in the faint lines around his mouth and eyes. ‘If anything happens to her, to either of them…’

  ‘It won’t.’ Caelan sounded more confident than she felt. They would need to check where Adam Waits had been when Ben Rainey was killed. He couldn’t have abducted his wife himself, as they had confirmation that he had been working, hurtling around London in an ambulance, but they’d had no reason before to check if he’d been working on the night Rainey died. She looked at him – the powerful build, the hurt in his eyes.

  And she wondered.

  28

  Marcus Crowley hadn’t left his snooker club, and no one had gone inside either. In the alley, Detective Nicky Sturgess stamped her feet and blew on her hands, knowing she was wasting her time. If Crowley was hurt, as Penrith had told her Caelan had reported, why would he leave? He could contact anyone he wanted to using his mobile.

  She looked up at the club, assessing her options. Going inside alone would be a risk, but standing out here freezing was pointless. After sending Penrith a quick text to explain, which she immediately deleted, she strode towards the building.

  As she crossed the road and stepped onto the pavement, a familiar black car approached. Nicky kept walking. Sure enough, two men got out. From their bulky build and dark clothing, she guessed they were the same two she had seen earlier. She had her back to them now, and knew she had to find an excuse to turn, to see what they were going to do.

  In the end, she didn’t need one.

  She heard the footsteps behind her and spun around, but was too slow. They stood grinning at her, arms folded.

  ‘Help you?’ The man who spoke was taller than his friend, but not by much. His features were shadowed by the cap he wore, but Nicky made herself look into his face. Her heart began to thump. They couldn’t have seen her watching; she had been careful. She always was. Unless… unless Crowley had spotted her from above, through the window. Caelan had been lurking here before, and perhaps he’d seen her, grown suspicious. Did these two louts work for Crowley? It didn’t seem likely if they were the same men Caelan had seen go in and beat him up. Who, then? Ryan Glennister? No one seemed to believe him capable of employing anyone. Nicky knew she had to respond.

  ‘No. Just minding my own business.’

  The man laughed at that. ‘You’re not interested in the club?’ His English was perfect, an accent she couldn’t place just noticeable.

  She looked bemused. ‘The club? No.’

  ‘In Marcus, then? You know him?’

  ‘Crowley? I’ve heard of him. Never met him.’

  ‘Yet you’re waiting outside for him? What do you want?’

  Nicky took a step back, bumped into the brick wall behind her. Shit. Stay calm. They’re fishing. ‘What are you talking about? I’m a cleaner, it’s my day off. I’m on my way to the off-licence.’

  ‘Oh really? You like a drink?’

  ‘Doesn’t everyone?’ She assessed the distance between them. No room for her to push past, and they’d be on her if she did. No visible weapons, but she couldn’t be certain. Better to try to talk her way out of it.

  ‘We’re going into the club for a drink. Why don’t you join us?’

  Nicky tried a smile. ‘No thanks. I’ve never played snooker.’

  ‘You don’t need to.’ He moved closer, his fac
e set. ‘Come on.’

  They were either side of her, blocking off any escape route. The street was deserted, no cars or pedestrians in sight. Nicky slid a hand into her pocket, fumbling for her phone. He spotted the movement, grabbed her wrist.

  ‘What have you got there?’

  Without thinking, she swept his hand away, following the movement with a kick to his groin. He let out a roar, his knees buckling.

  ‘Bitch!’

  The other man reached for her hair. She twisted her body, blocking him with her forearm, her other hand going for his face. He ducked, his fist hurtling towards her stomach. Nicky tried to turn, but he was too close, and the blow glanced off her ribs. Her vision filled with bright dancing spots, and she clenched her jaw against the pain. She knew she couldn’t fall to the ground. If she did, she would be finished. He was moving again, trying to catch her around the waist. The first man, still clutching between his legs with one hand, reached out to grab her with the other. Get away, she told herself. Put them down and run. Another kick was out of the question because of the agony pulsating around her ribcage.

  She staggered back, hit the wall again. The man who’d punched her grinned.

  ‘Another woman who can fight.’

  Nicky jabbed at his throat, but he pushed her away as though swatting a fly, keeping hold of her forearm and twisting it the wrong way. She gritted her teeth as the pain began to build, knowing he would snap her arm if she didn’t break free. The first man was watching, smirking, believing his friend could handle her. The realisation infuriated her, and she ordered herself to act. With her arm twisting between them, reaching her attacker would be impossible, unless… Without warning, she shifted her weight, lifted her foot and booted his shin. He let go of her arm, fury darkening his face. She broke away, tried to run, but every step jolted her ribs, and she was already struggling, panting, her breathing laboured, her vision swimming. She clutched her ribs, kept going, but she could hear them behind her and she stumbled. Where was everyone? How could she be in one of the most crowded cities in the world with no one in sight?

  She remembered the phone and hauled it out of her pocket, her fingers clumsy on the screen. She didn’t know if it connected before a hand reached over her shoulder, another snatching at her waist. Hot breath in her ear, a thick arm pulling her off the ground. Something sharp against her neck, tugging on her skin. The sky blurring, darkening.

  Disappearing.

  29

  In his office, Ian Penrith had the receiver of his desk phone jammed under his chin, listening to Chief Superintendent Adele Brady’s forthright opinions on where the investigation had gone wrong. He balled the paper bag that had contained his ham roll in his fist and, squinting, lobbed it towards the bin. It bounced off the rim and skittered across the carpet. Penrith pulled a face. The screen of his mobile lit up with an incoming call, darkening again before it had a chance to ring. Penrith frowned, reaching for the handset. Nicky. A missed call. He waited for her to try again, Adele Brady’s monologue continuing in his ear. She didn’t seem to require much input from him. He was tempted to set the receiver on the desk and let her blather on while he retrieved the paper bag from the floor, but didn’t quite dare.

  After a couple of minutes, when Nicky hadn’t called back, he picked up the phone again and sent her a text, asking if she was okay. No response.

  ‘Ian?’ Adele Brady sounded impatient, and he wondered what he’d missed. Nothing important, or at least nowhere near as important as his own team. He might not show it, would never admit it, even to himself, but he thought of them as family.

  He blinked. ‘Sorry, one of my officers is trying to contact me. She’s out in the field and I really should—’ He pressed the button to end the call with Brady, their discussion already forgotten.

  He listened to Nicky’s phone ring, the automated voicemail eventually asking him to leave a message. He stared at the phone, a chill spreading through him. It wasn’t unusual for an officer to be interrupted when they were trying to call in, but they usually chose a time and location where they wouldn’t be disturbed. Nicky was alone, watching a potential person of interest. If she required backup, he needed to act. What was she playing at? With one officer already missing, he knew he couldn’t afford to take chances. He tried again, willing her to answer.

  ‘Come on, Nicky,’ he mumbled, tapping his fingers on the desk. Voicemail. ‘Shit.’ Where the hell was Caelan? Wandering around with no direction when she should have been with her colleague. And Richard Adamson, kicking his heels in prison. Pointless.

  Penrith told himself to calm down as he ran a hand across his forehead, feeling sweat beginning to dampen his hairline. There was no evidence that Nicky was in danger, or had been exposed for who she truly was. No proof except the fear crawling across his shoulders and the dread in his belly. He called Caelan, using his landline. She answered immediately, and Penrith, hearing the relief in his own voice, hoped she wouldn’t pick up on it.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She sounded bemused. ‘Fine. What’s the problem?’

  Of course she had realised. ‘Hopefully nothing,’ he told her. ‘Can you get back to the club?’

  She knew better than to ask. ‘On my way. What am I looking for?’

  ‘Who. I can’t reach her.’

  A pause. Then: ‘Shit.’

  It was a whisper, and Penrith closed his eyes, silently berating himself. In his hurry, he had forgotten Nicky and Caelan’s history. Then he straightened his back, told himself to focus on what mattered – making sure Nicky was safe. Caelan would be nothing but professional, he knew.

  ‘Can you check something for me?’ Caelan asked. She was hurrying, he could tell from her breathing. There was traffic noise, the sound of the wind. She was on her way. It would be okay. Backup, looking out for each other. It was what they did best, except he had sent Nicky out alone. He shut the thought down. She was a professional, had worked on her own hundreds of times and in much more perilous situations.

  ‘What do you need?’ he asked.

  He listened to what Caelan had discovered, picking up his mobile and firing off a text to Achebe as she talked.

  ‘I don’t think Waits is involved, but…’ The rest of her sentence was lost in the blare of a car horn.

  ‘We need to check.’ Penrith was nodding though no one could see him. ‘He’s a paramedic, he’d have a good idea how much punishment the human body could stand.’

  ‘You’re thinking about the torture?’

  ‘A man who’d slept with his wife…’ Penrith thought about it. ‘No, I don’t buy it. Going up to Ben Rainey and thumping him, yes, but prolonged torture? And where would Bryce fit in?’

  ‘Like I said, I don’t think he’s who we’re looking for. He didn’t have to tell me about Liv and Rainey. Why would he draw attention to himself? He just wants her found.’

  ‘Don’t we all.’ Penrith used his mobile to try Nicky’s phone again. ‘Nicky’s still not answering.’

  ‘It’ll take me well over an hour to get there. Isn’t there someone else nearby?’

  Penrith turned to hook his jacket from the back of his chair. ‘I’ll meet you there.’

  * * *

  Caelan jogged towards South Harrow station, her phone in her hand, her body feeling electrified. Penrith sounding even slightly perturbed was unheard of, and for him to show real concern was disconcerting to say the least. Her own footsteps thudded in her ears as she hurried along, hoping there was an innocent explanation for the loss of contact. She knew Nicky, and how she worked. She was careful, they all were. They had procedures, different options to cover all eventualities. Their training was exhaustive, and continuous. Mistakes were rare, and usually costly. If Nicky had vanished, just as Liv Hobbs had, who could be behind her disappearance? Marcus Crowley was out of action, unless he had been faking his injuries, and Caelan didn’t believe he had. Why had he been attacked? He’d been hurt, but superficially compared to the agonies inflicted on Be
n Rainey and Anthony Bryce. More to the point, he was still alive. Why?

  She entered the station, waited for the train, working through what they knew. The picture was still hazy. Snippets of information kept coming to light, but they weren’t leading in any meaningful direction. Rainey, Bryce, Crowley, Jackson Hobbs. Liv, and Adam Waits. The two men who had grabbed her to send a warning to Frankie Hamilton. Ryan Glennister, always central to the investigation but also on the periphery, impossible to catch hold of. And Aaron Jacob, murdering a man because of the threat hanging over his daughter. Caelan looked down the platform, listening for the train. She couldn’t see the link, knew she was missing the truth. There were too many unknowns, more questions than answers. Lies, and half-truths. There always were, in any investigation, but there was no pattern here.

  She checked her phone again, called Achebe.

  ‘You’ve heard about Liv Hobbs and Ben Rainey?’ she said.

  ‘Penrith told me. Hard to believe.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have said it was something Liv would do.’

  ‘Even though her husband had cheated on her?’

  ‘Well, yeah. Goes to show, you don’t really know people.’

  ‘You’ve not worked with her that long.’ Caelan could see the lights of the train approaching, and knew she had to be quick. ‘There’s still no sign of her?’

  ‘None. And I’ll be honest, I’ve no idea what to do next.’ Achebe sounded defeated.

  ‘There is an explanation…’

  ‘I’m not going to like this, am I?’

  ‘Maybe Liv doesn’t want to be found.’

  ‘Caelan—’

  ‘I’m serious. Look, I need to get on the train, but do me a favour and think about it. Have a look at her bank accounts as well her phone records. Please, Tim.’

  ‘You know I can’t, I’ve no justification. Liv’s clean, I’d bet my pension on it.’

  ‘She’s a missing person. You can do whatever it takes to bring her home.’