If Fear Wins

by Tony J. Forder

  Chandler looked the part as she marched with purpose into the waiting area and threw herself down into a chair directly opposite the one occupied by Stacey Bird. Bliss and Pursey were watching from the media suite, on a monitor which revealed a split screen view of the room. An added bonus was the sound from a microphone planted inside the smoke detector. Bliss was relaxed as he looked on, completely confident that his partner could pull this off.

  Chandler initially sat on the edge of her seat, saying nothing, but every so often releasing a furious and lengthy sigh. In between she shook her head and jerked up and down like a meerkat to peer down corridors, all the while patting her hair into place and fidgeting with the gold chain around her neck. She gave it a good few minutes, but when Bird had still not responded to her body language, Chandler moved to the next stage.

  ‘Bastards!’ she snapped, slamming back into the chair, extending her legs and resting her hands in her lap. ‘Come on, I haven’t got all fucking day!’

  One more shake of the head and then she glanced at Bird, lifted her jaw and rolled her eyes. ‘They think we’ve got nothing better to do,’ Chandler said. It was a throwaway comment, aimed generally rather than directly at Bird. But Bliss could tell it had grabbed the attention of their villain’s wife.

  Chandler flashed a quick smile. ‘Sorry,’ she said to Bird. ‘But my old man’s been dragged down here three times in the last month. They treat us like scum, even though my Jimmy’s done fuck all wrong.’

  Bliss coughed up a grin at the use of his name. He’d make her pay for that. He stared hard at Bird. Come on. The hook has been baited and cast. Take a bite. You know you want to. You know you want to share your own experiences.

  The right play now was not to push. To allow the resulting silence to work its charms. Chandler did exactly that, and Bliss silently praised her.

  That’s my girl.

  The move did the trick.

  ‘What’s he in for?’ Stacey Bird said, looking directly at Chandler for the first time.

  ‘I have no idea. His brief spoke to me during a break, and he doesn’t have a clue, either. First of all they kept asking him about someone from the RAF. Somebody he’s never even heard of. What’s that all about? And then they demanded to know who his contacts are in… where was it…? Oh, Peterborough, that was it. I mean, who the fuck has dodgy connections in a place like Peterborough?’

  Bird put a hand to her mouth and chuckled. She leaned forward, looking around as if to ensure they were alone. ‘Oddly enough, my old man does.’

  ‘Really?’ Chandler pulled off a terrific look of surprise, then shook her head. ‘Well, no offence, love, but it’s hardly the centre of the criminal world, is it? And I bet they’re not accusing your old man of selling drugs to anyone up there. That’s what they reckon my Jimmy does.’

  ‘Drugs? No. Actually, Darren doesn’t sell stuff to anyone up there.’

  Chandler shrugged, almost as if she were disinterested. ‘Think yourself lucky.’

  ‘Don’t ask,’ Bliss whispered beneath his breath. Don’t ask her what her husband does. It might spook her.

  Silence.

  She wants to tell. She really does.

  ‘So your husband hasn’t been selling drugs?’ Bird asked. She gave a sceptical smile.

  ‘What? Hold on, you’re not the filth, are you?’

  Bliss almost gasped out loud, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Now that was a ballsy move, he thought.

  But Bird was laughing, one hand clutched to her chest. ‘Me? Believe me, sweetheart, you couldn’t be more wrong.’

  ‘Good. Sorry about that, but you can’t be too careful these days. So your old man’s a bit of a face, is he?’

  ‘He does a bit here and there.’ Bird ran a hand through the loose blonde curls at the back of her head. Her excessively large hooped earrings jangled like wind chimes. Feigning indifference, Bliss thought. But secretly very proud of her husband’s life outside the law. And the riches it brought into her world.

  ‘But at least he’s not selling drugs in Peterborough.’ Chandler cackled at her own lame attempt at a joke.

  ‘No. He buys gear from someone up there every so often. Not drugs, though. A few things here and there, but mainly artefacts.’

  ‘Arte-what?’ Chandler portrayed puzzled beautifully, Bliss thought.

  ‘Artefacts. Expensive objects, pieces of interest. You know… cultural gear from other countries. Middle East mainly these days. Darren buys them to sell them on. He’s a real ducker and diver. A great provider.’

  Bliss had heard enough, and did not want to chance their luck. He made a pre-arranged call. Chandler picked up after pulling her phone from her handbag. ‘You’re done,’ he said. ‘Extract yourself, tell her your kids’ nanny has a problem at home or something along those lines. Make nice.’

  ‘What did you stop her for?’ Pursey asked. His florid face betrayed bemusement rather than annoyance. ‘Stacey Bird was opening up.’

  ‘We took a gamble as it was. Much longer and there was a chance Stacey Bird would have caught on, or at least got suspicious. I want her to walk away from here later barely remembering the exchange. And Penny was never going to get a name, address and phone number of this contact, was she?’

  ‘No, but what did she really squeeze out of her?’

  Bliss smiled. ‘Graham, my DS just provided us with the lead that’s going to break our case wide open.’

  ‘She did?’

  ‘And she played it perfectly. We’ve been searching for a connection between our murdered RAF officer and some kind of deal that went badly wrong. We thought it was drugs, but were convinced that was why things went the way they did for him. Well, we had it wrong. Livingston wasn’t buying drugs off Bird and selling them on. In fact, he wasn’t buying a single thing. But I know what role he played now. From there I can guess why he was murdered. And when all the pieces come together, I’ll also know who did it.’

  34

  They did not discuss Operation Compound and Bliss did his level best not to think about it too often. So far he had been a less than gracious host, and having driven back from Essex and dropped Chandler off outside her place, he wanted to spend some time with Emily. The sun had set, leaving behind ribbons of deep crimsons, purples, pinks and oranges. The garden faced west, so Bliss and Emily had a good view of the day dying over the rooftops and trees of nearby houses.

  The silences were comfortable. Conversations meaningful. Emily spoke about her job at the university and her life both before and after her marriage, Bliss opened up about his time with the NCA, the awful rape-murder series of last autumn, his encounter on the edge of a cliff when rescuing Chandler from the clutches of a lunatic. Eventually it came around to the two of them and their brief moment in the sun together.

  ‘You still have your boat?’ Emily asked.

  Bliss laughed. Shook his head. ‘I haven’t thought about The Mourinho in many a year. No, I kept its berth down on the Nene by the weir for a while after I left the city, but when it actually sank in that I wasn’t coming back any time soon, I sold it on. To a fellow Chelsea fan, of course.’

  ‘Of course. It was a nice little boat. I bet you wish you’d kept it now.’

  ‘Like I say, I haven’t given it a thought in yonks. But yes, now that you mention it, a boat would be something nice to have come the summer. Somewhere I could go to switch off for a few hours.’

  Emily turned her head fractionally to study him for what felt like a long time. ‘I have to say Jimmy, I was very surprised to see you were back here in the city. From what I recall, you were hardly a fan of Peterborough.’

  ‘I wasn’t. To be fair, I’m a Londoner through and through, so there was that. When I first moved up here I’d left behind a job I liked and a whole lot of memories that were important to me. I think it was a question of pining for the past and not allowing myself to acclimatise to the move. I never opened myself up to the possibilities. I saw only the old and grubby side of t
he city, took no time to gain an appreciation for the finer points.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Second time’s a charm. It’s a typical British city in so many ways. Like all of them it has its dumps, its share of scummers, and then it has its lighter side such as Ferry Meadows, the central park, Cathedral, plus the decent, hard-working people.’

  ‘So you’ve become a fan?’

  Bliss smiled crookedly. ‘Let’s just say I’ve become less of a critic. It’s my home again, and this time I think it may be for good.’

  ‘You don’t fancy America, then? From what you told me, you took to California and Detective Newman.’

  ‘Both were extremely appealing. But more as a holiday destination.’

  ‘Aren’t you lonely, Jimmy?’

  ‘I was with someone only recently.’

  ‘You were?’

  Bliss explained his relationship with Angie Burton.

  Emily shook her head in response. ‘That’s not being with someone, Jimmy. That’s sharing a physical experience, leaving emotion outside the bedroom door. It’s not a relationship, so my question still stands.’

  He took a breath. Gave it some serious thought. Shrugged it off. ‘I’m too busy. In the little time I spend here at home I listen to my music, spend time in my garden, work out, or sleep. The rest of the time I’m with other people.’

  Emily nodded. ‘That wasn’t exactly a yes or no answer in terms of how lonely you might be, but I sort of know what you mean. Thing is, Simon has been gone only a couple of weeks and I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life. It’s as if a whole half of me is missing, and I can’t imagine how I ever functioned before he became my world.’

  ‘That’s where we differ. You had that time with someone. Time to form that special bond, the kind that feels unnatural when it’s no longer there. That was me and Hazel. How you are now is exactly how I was when Hazel died. Unlike me, you didn’t have two dopey dogs to take care of, animals who also missed Hazel and who needed me all the time to fill the gap in their lives.’

  ‘I also don’t have the police on my back looking to accuse me of Simon’s murder.’

  ‘True. My days following Hazel’s murder were spent fighting against that. But just like me, you’re looking for answers. Needing to understand what went so badly wrong that it cut you in two.’

  ‘It certainly is all-consuming. But going back to what I was saying before, if after only a couple of weeks I am feeling this deep… emptiness, how is it that you are able to live quite happily without someone in your life who will be beside you no matter what?’

  Bliss grinned. ‘I have Penny for that.’

  Emily dropped her eyes to his. ‘There’s more truth to that than I think you know.’

  He shook his head. ‘No. No way. If you’re talking in terms of me and Pen being a couple, then you’re way off the mark. I don’t think of her that way.’

  ‘Perhaps not sexually, Jimmy. But if I were to ask you who you most trusted in the entire world, who would be there by your side in your most dire moments, and who you would put your life on the line for, then my bet is it would be Penny Chandler.’

  ‘You may be right.’ Bliss paused, thinking. ‘But that just makes her my colleague, my partner, and my friend. All of those things you said may be true, but I don’t come home to her every night and never expect to.’

  Emily nodded. ‘If you say so. But you would be less lonely if you did.’

  Laughing, Bliss said, ‘I keep insisting I’m not lonely, Emily. You saying it’s so doesn’t make it so. I don’t get lonely.’

  She held up a hand. ‘Okay, okay. Let me finish this topic by referring back to one thing you just said. You mentioned the dogs, and how they needed you to fill a gap in their lives. But what about the gap in your own?’

  ‘I fill it with all the things we spoke about before. Rather than one thing – one person – I have many things and several people.’

  ‘All of which makes you less alone, Jimmy.’ Emily gazed at him and gave a small sad smile. ‘Not less lonely.’

  When they were not talking, Bliss sneaked regular sidelong glances at the woman he had once fallen for. The dozen passing years had not diminished her. In some ways, they may even have made her more of a force of nature than she had been when they first met. What they’d had between them had never reached the level of love – not on his part, and he was certain Emily had felt the same way. There was respect, a high regard also, plus a deep affection that had remained with him down the years. There was a connection between them that could not be disengaged by the mere passing of time. They had shared something important, special. Bliss was not naïve enough to believe that their relationship would ever have lasted the course. Not knowing for certain, however, felt like a lost opportunity. Down the years he had always considered Emily to be unfinished business.

  ‘Tell me something,’ he said softly. ‘Was there ever a point during our time together when you thought you and I might end up being something more?’

  ‘No.’

  Bliss blinked. He stared at her. ‘Hey, please don’t sugar coat it for me, Emily. Tell it like it is.’

  She chuckled. ‘Let me tell you why. It had nothing to do with you as a person. I liked you enough. Maybe I even loved you a little. There’s a quality about you that I think makes it easy for women to fall in love with you. But the problem was, and the reason why I never saw us as a couple who could make it all the way, is that with you the job will always come first. It will always be your first priority. I don’t say that as a bad thing. In many ways it’s admirable. But women don’t like to be put second, Jimmy. Not to anyone or anything.’

  ‘It never occurred to you that I might change?’ he asked.

  ‘No. A dozen years have gone by. Have you changed?’

  Laughing, Bliss hiked his shoulders. ‘I suppose not. An old mate of mine told me just the other day that for someone to live the way I do was pretty sad. I think he may have been right.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go as far as to say it was sad. Not if it’s what you want to do. Not if you are who you want to be. We are all capable of change. But we have to want to. And your willingness to put your job above all else has nothing to do with how you feel as a person. I still believe you are both alone and lonely. Yes, your job comes first. But that doesn’t stop you wanting more. It doesn’t stop you wanting it all. It just prevents you from having it.’

  About to offer his house guest a top up of wine, Bliss felt a sudden rush of heat thrusting up from his chest to this throat and across his cheeks. The constant howl in his right ear now screamed, and it too succumbed to a spreading warmth. Bliss sat still for a few moments, attempting to right himself but becoming increasingly more light-headed.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said, leaping from his chair and dashing into the downstairs toilet. On his knees, toilet lid up, Bliss leaned forward, head over the bowl. Blindly he reached for the hand towel, managed to run some water onto it and then used it to bathe his forehead. Keeping the towel pressed to his brow, but taking care to avoid the rest of his face, Bliss first felt the acid sting of bile, followed by a gush of vomit.

  In three rapid heaves the moment passed. Bliss retched and disgorged every last drop. Then he flushed the toilet, slipped back onto his haunches, and rested his temple against the cool tiled wall to his right.

  Bliss silently cursed his lapse. It was no wonder. He had run on adrenaline for several days now, ratcheting up the stress levels and taking no time at all to manage his condition. Six long drives, four to York and twice since to Essex, the lack of sleep, combined with the tremendous weight of pressure bearing down on him from all angles, was more than enough to trigger one of his crash-and-burn moments. The only real surprise was that it had taken this long. Bliss assumed it had occurred now because both his body and mind had gone from such high momentum to wiped-out relaxation that his system had simply been unable to cope. He was in distress, and this was his body’s way of insisting he reboot.
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br />   Returning to the living room, Bliss apologised for his hasty exit.

  ‘Please don’t,’ Emily said, concern in her expression. ‘I saw that side of you a couple of times before, remember.’

  He did. He had only recently been diagnosed when he and Emily started dating, and was still uncomfortable with it, back then. In the early days he found such a lack of control embarrassing. Some macho bullshit, he imagined. He wasn’t a great deal better now at accepting this aspect of his illness, and dreaded the inevitable sympathetic looks that followed even a mild attack, but he did at least realise that there was very little to be done about it other than managing it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He would rather curl up his toes than live a life like that.

  Bliss eased himself back down into his chair and reclined, taking deep and steady breaths. His heart hammered away, blood pounded at the back of his head, the shrieking whine inside his ears consumed everything around him. One light evening is all you need, he told himself. Followed by one decent night’s sleep. Keep the ghosts and demons at bay long enough for your mind to go in search of its happy place.

  ‘You okay, Jimmy?’

  Bliss started. For just a moment he had forgotten Emily was there in the room with him. In the house at all, for that matter.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Will be, at least.’

  ‘Can I get you anything?’

  ‘Cuppa would be lovely.’

  ‘You still drinking that poncey stuff you used to like? Smells like perfume gone off.’

  Bliss chuckled. ‘If you mean Earl Grey, then yes. Thanks.’

  A few minutes later he was sipping it down. Hot and black, with a squeeze of lemon. Emily had remembered. Something about that touched him more than he would have expected.

  ‘Do you read?’ Emily asked as Bliss sat back enjoying his hot drink.

  ‘I can read. Is that the same thing?’

  Emily laughed. ‘Not quite. I mean novels. Crime thrillers in particular.’