Bye Bye Baby

by McIntosh, Fiona

  ‘Am I still working on Danube?’

  He nodded. ‘We need you. I need you,’ and he saw the flash of relief and triumph in her eyes. ‘But we can’t work together so closely unless you can —’

  ‘I can,’ she interrupted, keen to assure him. ‘I give you my word.’

  ‘Then you can stay.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Now tell me what’s on your mind.’

  Kate finally sipped from her coffee and Jack saw the previous agitation return to her expression.

  He tried to make it easier. ‘Alright, tell me about Fletcher’s car.’

  ‘His BMW was found parked at the Hastings train station.’

  ‘Damn it!’

  ‘The police are interviewing all the staff to see if anyone remembers Fletcher, or a couple with a man fitting his description.’

  ‘He hasn’t rung anyone?’

  ‘Well, yes, he did call his mother after ringing his girlfriend, but before this meeting he spoke to her about. Nothing important was said, other than that he was due to meet someone and had to go. The most damning clue, I suppose, is that he’d already rearranged dinner tonight with his long-time girlfriend into a very late lunch, which she said was odd, but then he proceeded to stand her up. He never arrived as promised. She can’t reach him via phone, either. He’s on voicemail only and, in her words, “He never switches the damn thing off “. She has no idea where he is or why he didn’t turn up.’

  ‘Nothing at the B&B?’

  Kate shook her head. ‘It was all locked up, nothing abnormal — fresh tyre tracks of a BMW. Fletcher had certainly been there today.’

  ‘But the local boys are gaining entry, just in case, right?’ She nodded. ‘So, give me these facts you want me to hear,’ he urged.

  ‘Will you promise to hear me out totally before you explode?’

  ‘Kate, for fuck’s sake.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ she said. ‘I’m just warning that you’re probably going to be angry, but I need you to hear it all.’

  He nodded. ‘Tell me.’ It came out as an order.

  Kate sucked in a breath, put down her coffee to one side. ‘It’s about Sophie. No, please! You promised.’

  The sound of Jack’s chair scraping on the floor still echoed as his jaw worked to control a fresh wave of anger. He remained silent at her plea.

  ‘Thank you, sir — just let me say what I have to.’ She took another breath, allowed a momentary pause before she began again. ‘Sophie told you she was going to Devon today — that’s right, isn’t it?’

  He nodded, fury barely repressed.

  ‘She tried ringing you this afternoon, couldn’t reach you, rang the Yard and got me. She left a message with me for you that she was fine, had arrived safely in Devon, it was raining and her mother was okay.’ She was met by stony silence and Jack’s glare made her look away. ‘You applauded my honesty, sir, and I need to be utterly direct with you now. As I told you, it wasn’t raining in Devon today. And before you say anything, I have friends in North Molton and I checked with them. They confirmed what the weather bureau told me. It was a splendid day in their region, glorious across all of Devon today, in fact, but especially in North Molton where it was cold but very sunny, not even drizzling.’

  ‘Perhaps she was simply making conversation,’ Jack said, his words icy.

  ‘Perhaps she was, but she told you the same thing apparently and I can’t imagine why the woman you’re sleeping with, the woman — whom in your words — you hold in your thoughts for each waking moment, would need to make empty conversation with you ... sir.’

  ‘Is that it? The sum total of why you needed this private, insulting discussion.’

  Kate’s fingers clenched and unclenched with anxiety. He could see how difficult this was for her. He no longer cared.

  ‘No. I tried to ring the pub where you told me she was taking her mother to lunch.’

  Jack closed his eyes with disbelief. ‘You did what?’

  ‘It’s closed for renovations. Opening in the spring.’

  ‘Is that conclusive, Kate? Could Sophie not have made an error? She doesn’t live in Devon — perhaps it’s been a while since her last visit.’

  ‘It’s been closed for almost a year, sir. They couldn’t have taken a reservation. Did she say she’d made a booking?’

  Jack refused to answer that, scowling his reply instead.

  ‘As I thought. So she lied. Anyway, none of that matters, sir. What does is the fact that Sophie wasn’t in Devon at all today, no matter what she told you.’

  ‘Not in —? What are you talking about?’

  ‘I happen to know that she was on the other side of the country today, sir.’

  ‘Explain yourself, Kate, or I’m leaving now.’

  She did so quickly. ‘As you know, our phone consoles show where a call is coming from. When Sophie called, it wasn’t the Devon prefix and she wasn’t on a mobile.’

  Jack felt the quiet flutters of alarm in his belly take full flight.

  ‘And where was she calling from?’ he said through near gritted teeth.

  ‘Brighton,’ Kate said, unable to look him in the eye.

  The silence between them became heavy with insinuation.

  She continued doggedly. ‘I tracked the call to a pub in Hove actually. She used a public phone in its front bar.’

  ‘Who else from Danube is involved in this?’

  ‘Just me, sir. Sarah refused to help. She has distanced herself from all of it and is totally pissed off with me.’

  Despite her admitting she was the only renegade, it gave him no satisfaction. ‘So where does this lead?’

  ‘There’s more, sir.’

  He watched her swallow hard beneath his gaze of contempt, but he said nothing and she continued.

  ‘The media announcement that Sophie admitted hearing about Edward Fletcher had only been aired in the south-east by the time she heard it.’

  ‘And of course you’ve corroborated this?’ Jack asked, his tone dripping acid.

  ‘Yes, sir. The radio stations out west will only be making their first announcements in this afternoon’s bulletins. She didn’t hear this news in Devon and could only have heard it somewhere in and around East Sussex. She was definitely in Brighton and Hove today.’

  ‘So you —’

  ‘Hear it all, sir,’ she cut across his words. Jack pursed his lips, letting Kate continue her roll. ‘Something Sophie said on the phone — I really can’t remember what — prompted me to ask whether she’d ever been to Brighton. She denied it but explained about family holidays in Portsmouth and Bournemouth.’

  ‘And why is that relevant?’

  ‘Considering who I am to her, sir — which is no one — a simple “No” would suffice. And before you say it, she wasn’t just being polite. She was going to some trouble to give me information. Even as newbies at Hendon, we’re taught to recognise when someone is colouring in far too much background, sir. And might I add that, for someone who has never been to Brighton, she seemed to know an awful lot about West Pier.’

  The last two words made Jack sit forward. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She reminded me that although I had some fond memories of early childhood summers on West Pier, my memory was playing tricks — I couldn’t have had that many summers because the pier was closed in 1975. She’s right about that date — I checked — plus we know this from Sergeant Moss. A coincidence? Perhaps. But how about this? When I made the comment that I was surprised she knew so much about a place she’d never been to, she told me to ask you about some photographs on the wall of her apartment. Apparently they’re of piers — that’s how she explained away knowing about West Pier. But it sounded contrived, sir. I know I mustn’t leap to a conclusion, but you insist we work on instinct as much as fact. Sophie used that as a throwaway line — in the same way that someone might close a phone call with “Give Jack my best wishes” — she really didn’t expect me to mention the photos.’
r />   Jack’s eyes narrowed. Every inch of him was on full alarm now, his body flooding with adrenaline. ‘They’re not of piers.’

  Kate’s eyes narrowed, ready to challenge him. ‘Well, she told me —’

  ‘They’re of one pier only,’ he interrupted, not apologising. ‘But I don’t know which one.’

  ‘Sir, she definitely implied plural. But you’ve seen them and I’d go out on a limb and suggest which one it is. If I saw them, I could confirm it. I can show you on the net what the ruin of West Pier looks like, or how it looked in its heyday.’

  Jack looked dazed and Kate pressed her case. ‘One more thing, sir. Sophie mentioned in passing that her father was a doctor — she used past tense, so presumably he’s dead. Does that ring any bells with you?’

  Nausea rose in Jack’s throat. This couldn’t be right. They were leaping to conclusions that surely weren’t there. He played for time, tried to unscramble his own tangled thoughts.

  ‘What are you drawing, or rather, hoping I will draw, from this cloak and dagger investigation into the woman I’m seeing?’

  Kate finally looked up at him and Jack could tell it took courage to do so. ‘I haven’t met Sophie, sir, but she’s blonde, very attractive, isn’t she?’

  ‘So are you attractive. So are thousands of women blonde. What’s your point?’

  ‘You met her almost immediately Operation Danube came into being.’

  ‘Yes.’ He frowned at her. ‘So?’

  Kate rubbed her face, clearly unsure whether to proceed, then she knitted her hands on the table as if to steady herself. Her voice wasn’t so steady when she spoke, however. ‘You told us this morning that Sophie uses a wheelchair. Are you sure she’s dependent upon it?’

  ‘I’m not going to dignify your curiosity with an answer. This conversation is over.’ Jack left the cafe, with Kate in pursuit. She pulled at his arm, fighting back her despair. ‘Wait, Jack!’

  ‘No, this is vile, what you’re doing to me. I deserve better. And you, Kate, can start looking for a new job — don’t expect any reference from me.’

  ‘Please, please, hear it all. I’m begging you, because I think you’re in danger.’

  ‘Danger?’ Jack barked a harsh laugh. ‘You’re kidding, right? In danger from a woman who can barely teeter a few steps unaided?’

  ‘That’s just it, sir. I don’t think she’s disabled at all. I think the woman that Dan saw this morning was Sophie — blonde, attractive and —’

  ‘Kate! You’ve gone around the bend. You’re so emotionally distressed or blinded by your misdirected feelings for me that you’ve become obssessed with Sophie. You’re a liability for all of us. Don’t even bother coming back to Operation Danube. I’ll send your things to Kingston. You’re off the case as of now.’

  ‘Sir, if you won’t listen to me I’m going to take this higher. I’ll tell Superintendent Sharpe,’ she warned, and Jack hoped bile was tingling through her throat at the undisguised threat to her direct superior.

  She looked terrified when he turned on her and he allowed her to glimpse the depth of his wrath. ‘You’ll tell him what?’ he said in a menacing tone, the words clearly filled with warning.

  ‘I’ll tell him my fear,’ she murmured, clearly intimidated by Jack but not completely cowed, even though his face was close enough to hers that they could have kissed. ‘I’ll tell him that I think your Sophie could be Anne McEvoy.’

  32

  Anne pointed to the van parked at Hove Station.

  ‘Very sporty,’ Billy said, looking at her both amused and quizzical.

  She laughed. ‘I’m an interior designer, I have my tools of trade, you know. The van’s great for moving around all my gear.’

  ‘Blimey, no wonder you catch the train whenever you can,’ he quipped, following her towards it.

  ‘Don’t be so rude,’ she warned, feigning insult. She pressed the remote and the van answered, its doors unlocking. ‘Hop in. It’s very comfy.’

  He grinned. ‘I’m a BMW man. I’d never normally be seen dead in a transit van,’ he joked.

  ‘Is that so?’ she said, reaching into a cool box behind the driver’s seat. ‘Mineral water, Billy?’

  Jack stared at Kate. His reaction to her claim was beyond incredulity.

  ‘What has got into you, Kate? Is this some sort of blackmail?’

  ‘Oh, get real, Jack,’ she snapped, her courage gathering. ‘Do you really think I’d make such an outrageous claim unless I truly believed it? Blackmailing you? I’m trying to save your life! She’s killed two men and now she has another man’s blood on her hands. I have to say that I don’t particularly blame her, considering what those bastards put her through, but my job is to help stop her. Now every fibre of my body is screaming at me that Sophie is our killer. Prove that she’s not, Jack, by all means, and make me look as stupid as I must sound — ensure the only job I can ever do again is traffic police — but don’t dismiss my instinct or this scenario. I’ve given you the facts that form my suspicions, and I agree a lot of it could be coincidence, and much of it is circumstantial, but what’s in your gut now? Any doubts? Anything at all that leads you to think Sophie could have been lying to you?’

  Jack felt his throat close.

  ‘Answer me, Jack!’

  His mind was whirring in every direction as he rapidly backtracked over the past couple of weeks and things began to jump out at him. Was that really how short a time he’d known Sophie? It felt like so much longer — as though he knew her so well. Did he, though? What did he really know about her?

  ‘She told me she’s in property?’

  He could see the relief in Kate’s eyes that he was cooperating. ‘Sit down with me, sir, please.’

  Jack allowed himself to be led to a seat. Kate risked taking his hand. ‘Jack,’ she began softly, ‘can you think of anything that Sophie might have said that could incriminate her in any way?’

  ‘No!’ he replied automatically, his anger still burning.

  She took a different approach. ‘Take your time. Think — any clues at all that can totally refute this claim then?’

  He saw the distress in her face, glanced down to see her hand gripping his, and accepted that Kate wasn’t doing this to him out of any animosity. He thought of Sharpe and his warning of how vulnerable he believed Jack could be at times regarding women. You’ve always been close to women, Jack, the Super had said. You and your sister were inseparable as you grew up — and you’ve said it yourself: you were your mother’s favourite and you lost her too early, in horrific circumstances. And who did you turn to for solace? Your grandmother became your greatest friend.

  And then he remembered Deegan from Ghost Squad, aiming to dig up the past and reopen old wounds connected with Liz Drummond. Women seemed to be his greatest asset, but Martin Sharpe was right: they were also his frailty.

  ‘Jack,’ Kate urged. ‘We don’t have much time.’

  Everything that was so bright and shiny about Sophie suddenly felt blighted. He hated that Kate was doing this to him, sullying something that was so beautiful in his life. He answered robotically, ‘I tried to see her off on the platform this morning at Paddington. She told me which train she was catching so I decided to surprise her with a farewell gift.’

  ‘And?’ she coaxed.

  Jack shook his head once. ‘She wasn’t there. I rang, she said she’d caught an earlier train and that she was almost at Exeter.’

  Kate waited but Jack said nothing. She pushed him.

  ‘What happened next?’

  Jack took a breath, sat up straighter. ‘I checked with the platform attendant. He said there were no earlier Virgin trains, so then I checked more thoroughly at the ticket office and it was confirmed that not only were there no earlier trains from Paddington, but no Sophie Fenton was booked on any train from any station in Britain today.’

  Kate held her breath, let it out slowly. ‘So you already knew,’ she said softly.

  Jack looked down. ‘I wanted
to assume she paid cash.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘She told me that she was the daughter of a doctor as well. It was her way of letting me off the hook for keeping her waiting last Friday.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes’, he said, frowning as all the odd comments that had jarred but not made more than a fleeting impact at the time, returned to fall into place like pieces in a jigsaw. ‘She knew about my birthday shirt.’

  ‘The striped one? So?’

  ‘We hadn’t met.’

  ‘She probably saw you on TV like everyone else did. Perhaps she saw you leave the apartment building.’

  He shook his head. ‘Nope. When we first met she said she’d never seen me coming or going from the building. Anyway, I left very early that day of my birthday — it was dark and I was wearing a coat and scarf. Yes, she almost certainly did see me on TV at the press conference, but if she remembered my shirt so well — clearly enough to mention it — how come she played so dumb when I introduced myself to her? She made out she had no idea who I was or what I did for a living.’

  ‘People look different in the flesh,’ Kate offered, wondering why she was helping him to find excuses.

  ‘Come with me,’ he said, suddenly standing.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To Highgate.’ And he strode away.

  Kate grabbed her bag and hurried after him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Anne asked, heading out of Hove and into Hangleton.

  Billy twitched a confused smile, laid his head back against the headrest. ‘I don’t know. I don’t feel very well.’

  ‘Drink some more water, then.’ Anne’s voice was filled with mock concern.

  ‘I’ve drunk more than half already. No, it’s not that. I feel dizzy.’

  ‘I’ll stop the car soon. We’re almost there.’

  ‘Where, Brunswick? We don’t seem to be heading into Brighton.’

  He wasn’t slurring yet Anne was pleased to hear, but it wouldn’t be long before Billy was past the point of talking. She’d put a hefty dose of the drug in the mineral water, but she needed time to talk with him. She needed him to hold on, to fight the desire to sleep.