Driven to Death
Page 15
Bex was pleasantly surprised at the defense. Perhaps her team didn’t hate her as much as she believed?
“I don’t know about you guys, but I have a shit load of homework to complete before tomorrow’s training class, so can someone please give me the lowdown about how the case is stacking up against Bon Galliers?”
“After some persuasion Jemma Winship finally coughed to being responsible for hooking Clara onto ketamine,” Idris responded. “She also identified the phone as the one Clara purchased and confirmed it was the same one that Bon grabbed off Clara the night he came over. That consolidates the evidence that puts the phone in Bon’s possession and strengthens the supposition the threats originated from Bon. I’ve put in a request to the telco for location information each time one of those texts was sent. We can then link that to Bon’s whereabouts and hopefully nail that on the head.”
“I like it. If we can prove location links to Bon, that strengthens our case that the crime was pre-meditated,” Bex said. “Have we confirmed how Bon obtained the ketamine?”
The four men exchanged furtive glances, their shifty expressions sending a nervous tingle down her spine.
“Phillip Galliers admits nothing. The bottle of ketamine mouthwash proves Bon was in possession but doesn’t prove he was supplying Clara with drugs. All the evidence we have on the drug deals leads to Clara’s door, since she was in possession of the phone on the dates of those texts. The statements we gathered from her neighbors confirm some odd comings and goings late at night,” Idris said, a pen moving rhythmically between his fingers.
“What about tracking down the source of some of the texts and asking the senders if they got the ketamine from Clara or Bon? Phillip Galliers did admit that Bon was asking a lot of questions about the surgery’s supply of ketamine,” Bex pointed out. “That’s a lead we could follow up.”
“But that’s not a politically expedient line of inquiry,” Quinn said.
Bex’s shocked glance met Quinn’s watchful eyes. He ran an absent hand over his five o’clock shadow while he waited for her to absorb his words.
“What Quinn means is the drug inquiry is superfluous to the case we’ve built to present in Coroner’s Court,” Idris said. “We have enough evidence for a determination of unlawful killing.”
“Every cloud has a silver lining, right?” Quinn’s voice dripped with cynicism. “By dropping the line of inquiry on the drugs, we ensure Lord Dunreath gets to keep an untarnished rep and the Met gets no complaints about the Youth Crimes Team.”
“Quid pro quo?” Bex raised an eyebrow in his direction.
“More like, the amount of drugs in Bon’s possession and in Clara’s blood were so minor they simply don’t warrant the man hours it would take to resolve where they originated,” Idris argued. “Clara and Bon are both dead so it’s not like we’d be laying charges against them or helping them get off the ketamine. As Dresden says, it’s all about perspective. We’ve enough evidence to prove the case against Bon, and, thanks to Bex, we’re credited with catching a high-profile murderer who went totally under the radar. We can spend the next few months fighting for this unit not to end up on the slag heap or we can bask in the media adulation when Dresden releases the findings and move onto the next case.”
Bex nibbled her lower lip. Dresden had an agenda of course. In the short time she had known her, Bex had gathered that her commanding officer had her eye on the main prize and understood how to be politically expedient. If fighting off an internal inquiry didn’t result in the team being disbanded, it would certainly leave it tainted in the eyes of Dresden’s superiors and would overshadow what they’d accomplished in their first case.
Bex hadn’t come to London to contest political battles, she wanted to be in charge of solving crimes. Zane’s words reverberated in her head. “Choose your battles, Bex. You don’t have the energy to fight every son of a bitch out there, so make sure you choose the struggles that’ll make a difference.”
She felt their eyes on her, looking for direction. Was this the situation Dresden had in mind when she said, “You’re the team leader. Go show them some leadership”?
“It’s the right decision. It makes sense to leverage our results for the benefit of the team. Haggling with internals would be a lost cause.”
A low murmur of agreement rippled around the circle of faces fronting her and Bex observed postures relax, all excerpt Quinn.
He thrust his chair back and stood up, smoothing down his tie with one hand. “Nice to know where you stand on the practicalities of policing.” His voice was freighted with disapproval of her decision.
Brash, arrogant, righteous bastard! What does he expect me to do?
He plucked his jacket from behind the chair and slung it over his shoulder. Preparing to leave, he came to an abrupt stop as he passed close to her. “By the way, how did you figure out Evie Butterworth’s guilt?”
“Yeah, that came out of left field,” Reuben exclaimed. “It took us all by surprise. What made you suspect her?”
Bex had no intention of revealing her reason for confronting Evie. Pursuing the secret of forgiveness for her own salvation, she had learned instead to extend a modicum of mercy to herself. It was a small triumph, but a victory nonetheless, to realize that she had never used her own suffering as an excuse to hunt down and kill the driver who had caused Zane’s crash.
Quinn was a head taller than her, and so close she could smell just a hint of muskiness underneath his expensive cologne. As they stood facing each other, Bex felt her pulse kick up a notch. He really was strikingly handsome, she realized. Yet his proximity and the hard, suspicious look he shot her unnerved her so that she edged backwards.
“Let’s just call it female intuition.” Her voice came out sounding husky. She cleared her throat self-consciously, avoiding his eyes.
Quinn shrugged, an indication he didn’t believe her. A ghost of a smile shadowed his lips. “Bollocks! But good job anyway,” he acknowledged. “Although I’m not sure you’ve done anyone any favors by saving this team from extinction.”
“Your insults are getting predictable,” she told him, trying out a smile. Her lips moved stiffly, the muscles felt rusty as she performed the forgotten action, but she thought her mouth moved in the right direction.
THE END
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About Elleby Harper
Elleby Harper is a literary enthusiast, life explorer, world traveler and amateur photographer. After writing in the realms of non-fiction for many years, she branched out into fiction writing in 2016. She loves writing mysteries filled with twists, turns and plenty of suspense. Driven to Death is her first crime mystery novel and the first in her British crime with an American twist series.
Pursuing a healthy lifestyle took her and her family to regional Australia for clean air, fresh fruit from her orchard and eggs laid daily by her pet chickens. Her guilty pleasures include Oz port wines, dark chocolate (of course!), binge watching Oz soapie Neighbours and going outback camping with her family.
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