News of Marjory Thompson’s death had reminded him of Emily Curtis and her wait for updates concerning her husband. Over his first beer of the evening, Bliss had tasked himself with stretching his mind in search of answers. It wasn’t difficult to find a starting point, because if Simon Curtis did not take his own life, and an accident seemed very unlikely, then someone had heaved the man over the rail on that bridge and allowed him to plunge to his death. Bliss still considered suicide to be the most likely cause, but could not yet rule out murder. The difficulty lay in the difference between how those two methods would be investigated.
Bliss used his laptop to access the police central database system. There was much he could find out about Curtis from further conversations with Emily, but there might also be things she was not aware of. Like a criminal record, for instance.
But Simon Curtis proved to be squeaky clean. Officially, at least. The search was cursory at this stage. Bliss needed to keep off the radar as he had no sanctioned connection with the incident, and the last thing he needed right now was a reprimand for misusing police resources. There were more checks he could run, but would only do so if his next chat with Emily proved inconclusive.
In bed before midnight, having exercised and then showered, Bliss felt an ache in his bones that he recognised as being more than purely physical. He slept fitfully. In the dead of night he awoke suddenly, sitting upright, alert and ears straining. Something had woken him. A sound, out of place and out of time. His immediate concern was whether it had come from inside or outside the house. Bliss padded barefoot across to the bedroom window and parted the curtain enough to provide a view out into the garden and the houses beyond the back fence. Other than the faint glow of a single streetlight, the night was dark, the moon concealed by an overcast sky. No shadow looked as if it did not belong, nothing moved. He listened again, straining this time, but all was quiet. Still somewhat light-headed, Bliss spent the next ten minutes searching his house wearing just a T-shirt and shorts. He found nothing disturbed, and nobody lurking in a dark recess. The sound did not come again.
The remnants of a dream came to him, filtering through the fog inside his head. It was one he’d had before. A recurring nightmare vision of Malcolm Thompson’s face at the moment their hands had come apart. Followed by the man flailing helplessly as he fell to his death, swallowed up first by the thick fog and then the cold embrace of the sea crashing against the cliffside below.
Bliss shook it off and returned to bed, but was unable to find that deep sleep he so badly needed, and rose long before dawn to confront a brand new day.
20
Bliss knew the pair were from the Counter-Terrorism Unit the moment he stepped through the incident room door. DCI Edwards was cosying up to them, for one thing. She seemed to be fawning all over the male officer in particular, who was admittedly good-looking in that foppish Hugh Grant sort of way. His partner was short and squat and seemed to be listening intently to the conversational din going on around her. The other thing that set the two apart from everyone else in the room was that they had dressed to impress. Bliss did it himself whenever he had to visit squads in other areas; newest shirt and tie, best suit, even shined shoes. On your own turf you just went with whatever came out of the wardrobe first.
Edwards introduced the pair as Inspectors Kate Garner and Robert Hilton. They greeted Bliss with warm, friendly smiles. He responded with one of his own, which was followed by handshakes all round. It was all bullshit. Each of them knew it. Still they played their roles in the charade. Call it a jurisdictional consideration or turf war, it amounted to the same thing: the CTU wanted to run with this investigation alongside the Security Service, but so did Bliss. At least as far as he was able before MI5 finally had a presence on site and took command of the entire ship. Trouble was, he knew he would not have Edwards on his side.
‘Excuse me for one moment,’ Bliss said. ‘I just need a quick word with my DS.’
Bliss slipped across to Chandler, sat down on the other side of the table she was occupying and raised a hand to forestall anything she might be about to discuss. ‘Nod and smile no matter what I say,’ Bliss told her. ‘When I stand up and go back to our friends from the CTU, you slip off and tell Short to tell Bishop to disappear for five minutes. During those minutes he is to go as quickly as is humanly possible to the Super’s office and inform her that we have two of the CTU’s finest here.’
Chandler leaned back in her chair to better appraise him. Her gaze slipped from him to the two newcomers and back again. ‘You don’t think she already knows?’
‘I don’t believe Edwards has told her yet, no. If I read our beloved DCI correctly, she’ll sell us out first and then report back to Fletcher afterwards. When it’s too late for us to claw it back.’
‘So why the chain letter? I can go up–’
‘No. If Edwards is watching I don’t want her to later make an obvious connection. Call me paranoid, but I think she’d like nothing better than to hand this over to CTU, and I also think she knows that goes against the grain for Fletcher. Let’s put up some firewalls between us and Edwards so that she doesn’t think of you and I having this chat followed by you disappearing just minutes before the Super burst through those doors. Even our beloved DCI is capable of making that sort of mental leap.’
As he stood, Bliss’s mobile rang. He caught Edwards’s eye and pointed to the phone, indicating he would be just a minute. It was Emily Curtis, wondering if he had anything to report back. He moved away to a quiet corner of the room, lowering his voice as he spoke.
‘I’m about to start a briefing, Emily. Let me get back to you later on. For the time being, I’ll simply say that from everything I have learned, whilst your husband’s death won’t be ruled a suicide, I can find nothing to explain why he would be murdered, either. It’s not as if he would have been strolling across that bridge and set upon in a chance encounter. We need to talk, so let’s arrange something when I call back.’
‘Do we need to have a private chat before I run the briefing?’ Bliss said to the two CTU inspectors when he re-joined them. ‘I take it DCI Edwards has caught you up with things as they stand.’
Garner was the first to respond. She had the sort of vibrancy about her that belied her physical appearance. Bliss immediately took a shine to her. ‘It may take a while before we’re comfortable with a single, unified approach,’ she said. ‘So how about the four of us meet afterwards?’
Bliss nodded. ‘That’s fine by me.’
Without waiting for any form of affirmation from his DCI, Bliss headed for the front of the room and got the ball rolling. He made a point of referring to Garner and Hilton, asking his team to welcome the newcomers and to provide assistance where possible, before switching to Operation Compound itself.
‘With nothing new coming in overnight, things have not moved on since we were last here. To summarise, we have evidence that indicates a terrorist attack on a lone individual, but there is doubt hanging over that evidence. That doubt is the only thing standing between us and MI5 swooping in and taking over command. We have a very short window of opportunity here, because the media won’t be kept at bay much longer, either. We also have the dead airman’s parents and family to consider, not to mention the RAF itself. So I think it would be best if a small team attended the crime scene to examine the area pretty much as I did and report back their findings. Only DS Chandler and I have so far re-examined the specific spot where I believe the tree branches were both pruned back and adjusted to provide a clear view for the security camera. I did so with a particular bias as it was my impression that things were not quite as they seemed. Fresh eyes are needed, and this represents a critical point of the overall investigation. Today we have to make a call on this, so those who do check it out must do so with open minds.’
Inspector Hilton from the CTU raised a hand and called out, ‘If you don’t mind, DI Bliss, I’d like to tag along.’
‘Not at all, Inspector. I was going t
o suggest one of you did just that. So, while you’re out there, I want someone from my team to also speak with the site manager and security company. I want to know whether those tree branches are trimmed on a regular basis, and if so when they were last worked on. I’d also like an explanation for why that one camera looks out over the road. I have my own theories, but I would like some facts established. DS Bishop, please assign three team members, plus the Inspector and let’s get going on this. That is all for now.’
With the room emptying, Bliss suggested he, Edwards and Garner continue talking where they were rather than shifting to the DCI’s office. He did so mainly because he felt like discussing options on neutral territory, but also because he hoped to see Detective Superintendent Fletcher crashing open the door at any moment. He assumed that Bishop being back in the incident room meant the message must have been delivered.
‘You really think this could be a setup?’ Garner asked when it was just the three of them seated around one of the double-width tables. ‘That someone went to such lengths in order to make us believe an act of terrorism had been carried out against a serving member of the armed forces.’
Bliss did not even have to think about it. ‘I do. I can’t tell you why. Not at this stage. Could be political agitators looking to start some sort of race war in the city. This may well be about inducing fear, and if fear wins then we’re all screwed. Could be whoever murdered the airman wants us looking in one direction rather than the one in which they are located. If you saw the scene for yourself, I think you’d be suspicious of it at the very least.’
‘I guess we’ll see what Robert has to say when he returns,’ Garner said, nodding. She gave another warm smile, and this time Bliss sensed it was genuine and appreciative. He reciprocated.
‘If we look ahead while we’re waiting,’ Edwards said, ‘then we can get a jump start on where we take things next. I’m thinking this may be better all-round if it’s the security service’s call from that point on.’
Bliss noted Garner nodding in the periphery of his vision. His attention was on his DCI. ‘With respect, as and when it’s proven to be an act of terrorism I’ll be happy to hand it over to the CTU, because at that point it’ll go straight up to MI5 anyway and they will run it how they see fit. It’s their speciality, their remit, and we’ll provide whatever assistance we can, given it’s a crime no matter what the motive. Until that time, however, this has to be our operation. We can make it clear that a terrorist attack is one of several theories we are acting upon, have MI5 and SCU liaise with local relevant groups to make progress on that particular path. At the same time, though, we also make sure people are aware that the other leads we’re following are just as important and every bit as likely.’
‘And what leads would they be, Inspector?’ Edwards asked. She looked extremely pleased with herself, Bliss noticed, because she knew precisely what the answer would be.
‘I don’t know right now. But we’ll dig them out. We’ll have some movement by the time we make an announcement.’
‘So, if not terrorism, then either an incitement to a potential race war or an effort to mask the real reason the airman was murdered?’ Garner paused after asking the question. After a while she nodded. ‘I can see where you’re going with those routes, DI Bliss. If the evidence is as compellingly open to debate as you believe it to be, then of course we don’t want to create smoke where no fire exists.’
Garner put her head back and cursed. ‘Sorry. That was insensitive of me. What I mean is, the CTU has no desire to stir things up amongst your local community groups, nor their detractors, without clear evidence. Nor do we want to take up Five’s valuable time on what may well be nothing more than a facade. Equally, I’m sure you both understand that we always have to err on the side of caution. It doesn’t take much to send things off the rails these days, and the last thing we want to be accused of is avoiding a politically sensitive outcome whilst sitting on our hands.’
‘I’m clear about that,’ Bliss said before Edwards could speak. He was liking Garner more every time she spoke. ‘I understand and appreciate the thin line you walk, and we’re now trying to maintain that balance right alongside you.’
Bliss felt he had to fight his corner. There was still no sign of Fletcher, and it was up to him now to ensure that the investigation remained his at least until further evidence was discovered. The CTU was a necessary component of the police service in the UK, their expertise required more often than anyone would like – and far more regularly than the vast majority of citizens were aware. He had no issues with handing this off at the right time, provided he was the one to make that call. The CTU would eventually act as liaison between Bliss’s team and MI5, with the spooks calling the shots.
‘However this proceeds, the liaison paths are going to be complex,’ Edwards said, her narrowed gaze telling Bliss he would hear more about this later. ‘The RAF, the victim’s parents, various community group leaders, the regional MP, our own Detective Superintendent, plus any number from the higher echelons both here and down in Cambridge. I would suggest a formal focus group is in order. How about you, Inspector Garner?’
‘I think that’s essential. Until the stage at which we can positively rule out terrorism, we must function as if we are reacting not only to the incident itself, but a possible long-term threat. After all, if these men can do it once, what’s to prevent them from doing so again?’
The words were chilling, but Bliss could not disagree. If he had misread the situation and the murder of Duncan Livingston was an act of terror, then it could not be regarded as a one-off. The threat remained very real, because if they were terrorists then the three men in the white van could strike again at any time.
21
When he left Peterborough back in 2006 to start work for the newly-formed Serious and Organised Crime Agency, Bliss did so in the midst of some earnest soul-searching. He had come to the city from London whilst under a cloud, and he was making the return journey with his career very much on the line. As much as he wanted to blame others for his misfortune, Bliss understood his part in his own downfall. Accepting this was the first step towards changing the way he approached both his job and other people, as was recognising how long the transition would take and being honest with himself as to whether he was capable of making it all the way.
The life he had lived with his wife, Hazel, was one that constantly teetered on the brink of unravelling. As a couple, they took chances with life and all that it offered. Discovering his wife’s mutilated body was unbearable, being suspected of her murder a time of utter despair, and finding out that his wife had been first stalked and then murdered by a fellow cop, a man they had both encountered during one of those brink-teetering times of their life, an assault on his senses. At the time, Bliss was unable to tear down the political brass wall that stood between him and justice, and in a fit of rage had meted out his own form, leaving the cop responsible sucking liquids through a straw in hospital.
Moving to Peterborough had represented a fresh start for him and the dogs, and whilst an understandable reserve and lack of trust had prevented him from fully opening up to most people, his bond with Penny Chandler was formed almost immediately and without any second-guessing. Life was unspooling acceptably until the investigation that rocked policing in the area to its foundations, tearing down the triumvirate edifices of rank, secrecy and history to leave the resulting battlements in tatters. He had done nothing wrong – in fact, Bliss was praised for his efforts in tackling years of silent treachery. Yet the result was his being ostracised and forced to move on.
During the case that wrought havoc upon his life and resulted in the suicide of a man whom Bliss had considered a friend as well as a colleague, he met the Bone Woman. Emily Grant – as she was back then – stole a piece of his heart without him being aware he had any to spare. Their relationship was in its infancy, in a state of flux following his actions in the latter stages of the investigation, and Emily was not ready
to give up her life and uproot herself in order to join him in London. For a few days they toyed with the notion of a long-distance relationship, but reality quashed that idea before it got any further.
The wounds were not deep, and Bliss was a quick healer. He threw himself into his work, as well as several relationships. He never quite forgot the Bone Woman, though. Not for long. Bliss was confused about her being in his life once again, but when he called back and she suggested they meet to discuss her husband’s death, he did not hesitate. He had agreed to listen, to help, and would not let her down now.
They met inside Ed’s Easy Diner at the Extra service area where the A1(M) met the A605. Both Bliss and Emily ordered a coffee, but when the drinks were served he added a side of nachos with cheese. Bliss was happy for this to be a rushed meeting, because he still wasn’t sure how he felt about talking to the Bone Woman after all these years. For her part, Emily appeared equally ill at ease.
‘With official records telling me nothing, I’m looking to you for more in-depth information,’ Bliss said, blotting the corners of his mouth with a serviette. ‘If this is murder, somebody went to an awful lot of trouble. That kind of thing doesn’t usually happen for no reason at all. I do have a couple of more immediate questions for you, though.’
‘I’m ready. Fire way.’ Emily set her chin and confronted him with determined eyes. Today she wore the same coat, which she had removed upon taking her seat, to reveal a tasteful grey pinstripe dress and what Bliss assumed were the same leather boots. He was suddenly glad he had chosen to wear his best suit again, this time with a navy blue tie. It was good to feel close to being in her league.
‘Your husband’s car,’ he said. ‘Do you happen to know where it is?’
‘I have no idea. I haven’t given it any thought. He drove it on the day in question, that much I do know.’
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