She turned and ran back to the tower.
Lance was shouting to her, his words still lost to the wind. She scrambled up the steps and pushed him back inside.
‘Someone’s coming. Shut the door. Hide downstairs,’ she panted. ‘You were never here. I’m going out to meet them.’
Lance tried to grab her, but she evaded him and crawled her way back down to the ground. Keeping her gaze fixed on the approaching pinprick of torchlight, she walked steadily forward along the uneven track to meet her unwanted visitor.
57
Grace saw a black silhouette against the darkness and shone the beam of her torch directly at it. She was near enough to recognize Robyn but too far away for her torchlight to dazzle the girl. It was no use shouting against the wind, and, as Robyn appeared to be walking to meet her, she pressed on. As they came together she linked her arm securely through Robyn’s and pressed her mouth to her ear. ‘Are you OK?’
Robyn nodded and, in turn, spoke into Grace’s ear. ‘I want to go home.’
‘Fine. I’ll take you.’
Robyn tugged at the detective’s arm, pulling her back in the direction Grace had come from. ‘Can we go now?’
‘In a moment,’ said Grace. ‘Where’s Lance?’
‘He’s not here. I don’t know. I’m here on my own.’
Grace shone the torch over Robyn’s shoulder, nudging the girl round to see where she’d aimed the beam at Lance’s car. ‘I followed him here,’ she said, again leaning in close so she could be heard. ‘Come on, let’s go inside.’
She kept her arm through Robyn’s, directing the torchlight onto the track ahead of them until they reached the steps, where she gave the girl a little push to go up ahead of her. Once inside with the door closed it was possible to speak normally.
‘How are you? Are you really OK?’ Grace asked again, looking around at the whitewashed brick walls, thinking that Robyn had shown an unexpected flair for the dramatic. ‘This is quite some hideout. A bit spooky being here alone, I imagine?’
‘What do you care?’
Robyn sounded like a sulky teenager, but Grace was disconcerted by the vivid fear in her eyes. It was dismaying to acknowledge that she had inspired it, but she couldn’t help a slight flare of anger at the girl that any of them was here at all. She swallowed it down, accepting that absolutely none of this was Robyn’s fault and that, with her whole world disintegrating around her, she had every right to be afraid.
‘Your parents are worried about you,’ Grace said gently. ‘They both love you very much. Whatever your father’s done, the only thing he cares about now is you.’
‘Even though I’ve sent him to prison?’
‘You haven’t. He doesn’t think that either. And even if that happens, he’ll have put himself there.’ Grace looked around once more at the massive walls. There was no point calling to Lance; the sound of her voice barely travelled at all. ‘Where’s Lance? Can you ask him to come out?’
‘I made him bring me here. This was all my idea.’
‘Robyn, if I wanted to get Lance into trouble, do you think I would have come alone? There’d be half a dozen police cars out there by now.’
Robyn stood her ground, not altering her hostile expression.
‘Listen to me,’ said Grace sternly. ‘I’m going to be in as much trouble as he is. More, probably. So please, just go and fetch him so we can talk.’
As Robyn hesitated, something in her face made Grace wonder about what might have happened between the two of them over the two nights they’d presumably spent together – for Grace couldn’t believe that Lance would have allowed the seventeen-year-old to sleep in such a place alone. But then the girl walked over to a flight of stone steps and pointed into the bowels of the fortress. ‘He’s down there.’
Grace nodded and went to join her. ‘You’d better stick with me,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you running off again.’
Robyn tucked herself in behind Grace, making herself as small as possible. Lance must have heard their descending footsteps, for he appeared at the bottom of the narrow staircase before they reached it.
‘You here to arrest me?’ he asked bitterly.
Grace felt buffeted by the fury he projected. He seemed wound up tighter than she’d ever seen him, and some of his tension transferred itself to her. ‘For Christ’s sake, will you stop feeling so sorry for yourself and get a grip!’ she demanded. ‘If I’d wanted to arrest you, I’d have put a stop to this farce yesterday!’ She waved a hand back up the stairs. ‘Do you see anyone with me? Do you honestly think I’d do that to you?’
‘Why should I trust you?’
‘Because if you don’t, then I bloody well will go and fetch reinforcements and arrest you. Your choice.’ She glared at him. ‘What do you want to do?’
Lance glared back, his hands clenched so hard that the knuckles were white, unable to let go of his defiance.
Grace’s anger disappeared as swiftly as it had come. ‘Please, Lance. This is one huge unholy mess. We need to start sorting it out as best and as quickly as we can. Come upstairs and let’s sit down and work things out.’
‘I’m so sorry I dragged you into this, Lance.’ Robyn’s voice sounded very small, even with the dull echo from the solid stone that surrounded them. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t understand, that I was so stupid. I really am.’
Lance looked shamefaced. ‘None of this was your fault.’
The exchange between them seemed to disperse some of his anger, and he followed Grace warily back up to the living area, where she busied herself adding a log to the stove to give him time to compose himself. But when she straightened up it was Robyn who seemed the more distraught. Lance was sitting in one of the folding chairs, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, but Robyn stood bobbing with anxiety, her arms wrapped around herself.
‘Did my father kill someone?’ she asked Grace. ‘Not just make bullets and supply guns, but actually murder someone?’
Grace looked at Lance in angry astonishment. What had he been saying? His head drooped even further. ‘You have to listen to me, Lance,’ she said sharply. ‘I showed Robyn’s father the photograph, watched him like a hawk. I’m certain he had no idea who Peter was.’
‘But there’s no way you could ever be sure whether he was lying or not,’ said Robyn flatly. ‘Never in a million years.’
‘I think he’s prepared to tell the truth to get you back,’ Grace told her. ‘That really does seem to be the only thing he cares about right now.’
‘Then she can’t go back yet,’ said Lance decisively, straightening up and looking from Grace to Robyn. ‘Not until he’s told us everything he knows.’
Robyn rocked from side to side as if in pain, and stumbled over to a corner of the room where Grace now saw two camp beds had been set up. She curled up on one of them, her back to them, and began to cry.
Grace turned to Lance. ‘How could you do this to her?’ she demanded quietly. ‘You were the one who didn’t want me to involve her. What the hell changed?’
‘Leonard Ingold is a criminal,’ he answered coldly. ‘He’s probably behind Peter’s murder. We came into the job to take people like him off the streets, didn’t we? Well that’s what I’m doing.’
Grace turned to the sobbing girl. ‘Like that? Is that how you want to do it?’
‘You can talk! You stood in my home and lied to me about people sneaking in and going through my stuff. People who are supposed to be on our side. Is that how you do it?’
Grace held up her hands in surrender. ‘OK, OK, let’s not have this argument now. This is the shit we’re in. Let’s agree on that and move forward.’
‘She’s not going back until I find out who killed Peter.’
Grace pulled her chair closer so she could speak without Robyn overhearing too much. ‘There’s a reason I got you out of the way this afternoon,’ she said. ‘Colin’s negotiating for Ingold and his family to go into Witness Protection. Leonard can give us important information
on the Church murder and the other two sniper killings. I think it’ll also link back to what Peter was doing in Vale do Lobo and maybe lead us to his killer.’
‘You heard what she said.’ He nodded towards Robyn. ‘You can’t believe a word he says.’
‘Leonard Ingold did not kill Peter,’ she said. ‘I’d stake my life on that. Are you prepared to trust me or not?’
He stared at her sullenly.
‘Think about it,’ she said. ‘Who was in the photo with Peter?’
She gave Lance time to process the information, and she could see him make the connections for himself. Eventually he nodded. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I think I get it.’
She heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Good. So what’s the best way to resolve the situation here?’ She looked over at Robyn’s prostrate form. ‘We need to take her home.’
‘Fine,’ said Lance wearily. ‘I don’t care what happens to me, so why don’t you go and I’ll bring her in later? You don’t ever need to have been here.’
‘That won’t work,’ said Grace. ‘Think about it. Leonard has invested a lot of time and effort in tarnishing the reputations of officers who have stayed in his villa. Including you. We don’t know what loyalty Jerry Coghlan inspires among his former colleagues either. If Leonard finds out – before he spills the beans – that a police officer helped his daughter disappear, he’s never going to trust any of us again.’
‘You’re going to lie for me?’ he asked.
‘I’ll stay here with you tonight,’ she said. ‘And in the morning I’ll go to work as usual and you’re going to carry out whatever plan you had for Robyn’s reappearance. I don’t want to know what it is.’
Lance nodded towards Robyn. ‘And if she tells the truth?’
‘Then she tells the truth.’ Grace felt her heart swoop and miss a beat, but she couldn’t afford to think about the dire consequences of what she’d done by coming here. It’d had to be done. Lance was right: neither Colin nor Peter’s shadowy employers had the right to lie to him. Peter should not have lied either, although that was a whole other story. But at some point the lying had to stop, and Grace wasn’t about to compromise Robyn any more than they already had.
‘It’s her decision, Lance,’ she said. ‘Make your peace with her, but she has to know she’s free to say whatever she wants.’
He nodded. ‘She’s really a very sweet kid, you know.’ He sighed and, looking at Grace properly for the first time, gave her a lopsided smile. She smiled wanly back, wondering where true friendship ended and corruption began.
58
Grace arrived at work early the next morning, short of sleep but at least a little reassured that all might yet come right. Robyn had eventually allowed herself to be comforted and had eaten some soup and a sandwich. Once she had fallen asleep, Lance had persuaded Grace to go home, where she had lain awake wondering if, by the time she next went to bed, she would still have a job.
She had agreed with Lance that she would get to the office before him and make sure nothing had gone awry with Leonard’s undertaking to cooperate. Her best guess was that Nicola would go along with whatever her husband decided, but one could never be certain. She was also keen to grab some time alone with Colin to bring him up to speed on the criss-crossing network of connections between Ingold, Coghlan and the various members of the Kirkby family. Her aim was to encourage her boss to make the leap himself from Peter’s presence in Vale do Lobo to his murder in Colchester. She was confounded, therefore, to find Colin already in his office, locked in serious conversation with John Kirkby.
Neither man had seen her, so she moved quickly past the door into her own cubicle to give herself time to gather her thoughts. Had Kirkby learned – through Curtis? – of Ingold’s arrest? Was he here to pre-empt any accusations that would surely be coming his way once his arrangements with Jerry Coghlan were exposed? Or – far more likely in her opinion – was he here to glean as much information as he could to protect his surviving son?
That belief persuaded her of the urgent need to join the two men’s discussion, and she went straight away to knock on the superintendent’s door.
‘Ah, Grace,’ Colin greeted her. ‘Just the person we need. John here has brought something rather worrying to my attention.’
‘How can I help?’ she asked.
Colin indicated to Kirkby to explain.
‘It was my son Mark’s intention to make Donna Fewell his wife,’ he began. ‘With that in mind, and given the dreadful situation she and her children found themselves in, I arranged for them to have use of a Federation property. They were being left alone by the media, the kids had settled in well at a local school, things seemed to be going well. Now they’ve disappeared – packed up and gone without a word – and I’m extremely concerned about them, to say the least.’
Grace tried to hide her astonishment – and her secret pleasure that Ivo must have succeeded in whisking the family to safety. ‘Have you spoken to Ruth Woods?’ she asked. ‘She was their FLO and has been keeping tabs on them.’
‘She last spoke to them on Monday,’ said Colin. ‘Everything was fine.’
Grace tried hard to read his expression, but he was giving nothing away. She turned to John Kirkby. ‘Have you had access to their accommodation?’ she asked. ‘Was there any sign of violence or panic about their departure?’
‘No, but I find it hard to believe they would have gone of their own free will without letting me know.’
Grace nodded and glanced at Colin. He returned her gaze steadily. ‘I thought perhaps you could spare John a little of your time,’ he said. ‘Just a quick debrief. Make sure there’s nothing we should be following up. Nothing that dovetails with any of our other current investigations.’
This time his look of intent seemed clear to her. ‘Of course, sir. I’ll see if there’s a soft interview room free.’
Ten minutes later she was settled in the pastel surroundings of one of the witness interview rooms downstairs. John Kirkby seemed a little anxious but not unduly so, and Grace wondered how much he really knew of his sons’ activities.
‘I understand the need for tight security around Donna’s relocation,’ she began. ‘The FLO told me Donna had been receiving hate mail and other abuse before they left Dunholt, and it was important to keep the media away from her.’
‘Scum.’ Kirkby all but spat.
‘So who else knew where they were? Anyone in your own family, for instance?’
‘I’m divorced,’ he said. ‘My son Adam goes his own way.’
‘What about Donna herself? Was she in touch with anyone here?’
‘I doubt it. She said couldn’t imagine being welcome in Dunholt ever again.’
‘It was fortunate the Federation was able to help her.’
‘The Federation’s taken a right pasting in the media recently – all from people who don’t bother to find out the good we do.’
‘I pay my dues same as everyone else,’ said Grace lightly. ‘Yet I’m not sure I really know either. Take my colleague DS Cooper, for instance. After a bereavement his Fed rep arranged a welfare break for him in Portugal. It was really helpful. I was impressed.’
She watched him carefully. He went very still for a moment and then sat back in the pale wood and upholstered chair, which, it struck Grace, belonged to a very different era of policing to the one he’d started out in. He rubbed his chin reflectively. ‘I didn’t know that,’ he said.
‘In Vale do Lobo,’ she told him. ‘I knew that Federation branches owned holiday properties in the UK, but I hadn’t realized they’d expanded abroad.’
He gave her an unfriendly look. ‘I thought we were discussing my concerns about Donna Fewell.’
She smiled pleasantly. ‘We are. There must have been various Federation officials who had to sign off on Donna’s use of the apartment in Weymouth. Have you spoken to any of them yet about her disappearance?’
Kirkby shuffled around in the soft chair, straightening his back as if tryin
g to gain a height advantage over her. ‘You must be one of these fast-track graduate types.’
‘I am, yes.’
‘Thought so. Well, I came into the job straight from school, before you were even born, young lady. There was still respect for a bobby on the beat back then. Dixon of Dock Green and Gideon of Scotland Yard, that’s what my generation grew up on. We were there to protect the community, draw the line between right and wrong. And the Federation was there to look after us. Want to know the thing I’m most proud of, in all my years of service?’
‘Tell me,’ said Grace.
‘That I did right by my members. All those hard-working coppers out there at the sharp end, putting their lives on the line.’
‘So what was your role? How did you look after them?’
A wily look came into his eyes and he wagged a finger at her. ‘Now don’t go telling me you’re siding with that bitch of a home secretary,’ he said. ‘Who does she think she is, chastising us in public, reckoning she can get away with telling us to our faces that we’re not fit to decide what’s best for our members? Don’t kid me you’re unhappy with the deals and discounts the Federation negotiates on your savings and insurance policies, your mortgage, your new car? If you want to hand all that back and pay full rates, be my guest.’
‘So where do you think Donna Fewell might have gone?’ Grace kept her voice level and her chin up. ‘Why doesn’t she want the Federation looking after her?’ She paused. ‘Or is it you she’s run away from?’
Kirkby’s already ruddy cheeks darkened, but for the first time she saw an element of doubt creep into his eyes. ‘Why would she run away from me? I’m Mark’s father. I’m just trying to look after her and those kids the way he would’ve wanted.’
‘You and your family like to look after people, don’t you?’
‘No need to be coy with me, young lady.’ He crossed his arms across his chest and planted his feet firmly on the ground, knees apart. ‘If you’ve got something to say, then spit it out.’
Shot Through the Heart: DI Grace Fisher 2 Page 31