by Ellis, Tim
‘Don’t be disgusting. I have to work with him, I couldn’t live with him as well.’
Parish grunted. ‘You do live with me.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Well, you’re lucky, because there’s only one of me. So, you’ll have to aim your sights lower. And on that note I’m going to take Digby to the kennels now, and pick up your mother’s tablets on the way back.’ He collected up Digby’s favourite toy – the one that had lost its squeak, the blue fleece Linus blanket, his food and water dishes, and put his collar and lead back on. ‘Say goodbye to mummy and that horrible person who teases you.’
‘I don’t tease you, do I, Digby?’ Richards said, and hugged him.
Angie hugged him next. ‘Goodbye, Digby. See you soon.’
Digby knew something was happening, but didn’t know what, so he barked and wagged his tail.
‘Enough of this lovey-dovey nonsense. A week at boot camp will do you good, old fella.’
Alicia Mae called, ‘Goodbye, Digby,’ as they went out through the front door.
***
‘Parish is flying to Richmond, Virginia tomorrow morning with his whole family,’ Ruth Völker said.
The two of them were sitting in her office in the seventh basement level at the Defence Geospatial Intelligence Fusion Centre (DGIFC) in Feltham, South West London.
‘The dog as well?’ Ryder asked, and the corner of his mouth creased upwards.
Ruth didn’t particularly like Chapman Ryder, so she ignored his stupid question. Unfortunately, he was the best undercover operative she had, and as such a necessary evil. ‘He’s scheduled to give a presentation on Friday afternoon at the FBI conference on serial killers.’
‘And you want me to terminate him?’
‘Did I say that? Epsilon 5 is one of our success stories, and I’m loath to terminate just yet. We seem to have weathered the storm in relation to that stupid woman, and the incompetent you employed to kill her.’
‘We needed someone who wouldn’t ask questions, Frankl was such a person. As a consequence, we had to sacrifice a degree of control.’
‘In future, you’re to deal with Parish personally.’
‘And what would you have me do?’
‘You’re to follow him to America. Watch him, make sure his interest in where he came from is at an end.’
‘And if it’s not?’
‘You know what to do, but not without my authorisation.’
‘I understand.’
‘Make sure you do. I don’t want any more mistakes.’
Chapter Two
Tuesday, 26th February
‘Please don’t make me get up at this time,’ Richards said, pulling the quilt back over her head. ‘It’s still dark outside.’
He’d taken Digby to the kennels. It was the first time he’d been apart from the dog since getting him as a puppy, so he was a bit sad at leaving him all alone in that place. With a heavy heart, he’d driven back home. At seven o’clock – after dinner – they’d all traipsed up to bed. Angie had gone straight to sleep, but he’d tossed and turned for a good hour thinking about his presentation. He kept imagining a giant auditorium filled with laughter. The trouble was, his presentation wasn’t meant to be funny.
‘You stay here on your own then. Your mother and I will have a fabulous time without you. You’ll just be a ball and chain around our necks anyway. I mean, let’s face it, you’re not really needed, are you. You’re not contributing to the presentation, you’re refusing to wear that itzy-bitzy bikini, nobody likes you, and you moan all the time… In fact, I just wonder why the Chief is paying for you to accompany us. You used to be a half-decent partner, but now well… I think that maybe you’d be better employed at the station picking up litter, or in the lost property store. I’ll give the Chief a ring, and tell him to get a refund on your ticket. He’ll thank me for…’
‘All right, I’m not going to get any more sleep with you droning on…’
‘Excellent. I hope you’ve packed your bikini.’
‘And what do you mean, nobody likes me? Everybody likes me.’
‘Do they?’
‘Don’t they?’
‘Okay.’
‘Why? Has somebody said something?’
‘Have they?’
‘I’m not listening to you.’
‘Okay. I’m going to get ready now. Make sure you’re standing at the front door by four o’clock with your bag.’
‘This is worse than being in the Army.’
‘How would you know that?’
‘I just do.’
‘Well, Private Richards, if you’re late for the four o’clock parade you’ll end up with jankers.’
‘Whatever.’
***
They arrived at Gatwick at twenty past five and booked in. The flight was on time, so there were three hours to kill before take-off. Jack woke up, but as soon as he opened his mouth to protest Alicia Mae thrust a teat in it, which just happened to be connected to a full bottle of lukewarm milk she’d heated up before they left. He guzzled on that until he was full. Then, after a series of burps and a nappy change, he went back to sleep.
‘The airport authorities should provide beds instead of seats. Who wants to sit on a seat when your eyes won’t stay open, and your body has turned to jelly?’
‘Just lie on the floor. Airport people are used to jelly-like substances lying all over the place. They’ll simply work round you.’
‘You’ll wake me up when we have to board?’
‘Probably not. We’re all going to find a café to inject some coffee, but feel free to lie on the floor if you want.’
‘I just want to go to sleep.’
‘You can sleep on the plane.’
‘I can’t sleep sitting up.’
‘They have seats that recline all the way back with loads of leg room, blankets, and wake-up calls.’
‘Do they?’
‘Yes… but they’re in “business class” and we’re not in there.’
‘Oh God! You mean we’re in the squashy seats for eight hours?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you upgrade?’
‘You think I’m made of money?’
‘The Americans are paying, aren’t they?’
‘You think they’re made of money?’
‘We should have refused to go unless they upgraded us to reclining seat class.’
‘You could go back to the check-in desk and ask them if they’ll…’
‘There wouldn’t be any point now. All the best seats will have been taken. I’d probably end up next to the toilets.’
They stumbled into a café with their hand luggage and Jack, and ordered coffee. Parish decided – in the face of some disapproving looks – that a French stick stuffed with an all-day-breakfast would keep the wolves at bay.
Richards pulled a face. ‘That’s disgusting.’
‘I hope you’re not going to moan all the way there?’
‘She will,’ Angie said. ‘Mary could moan for England. As a child, whenever we took her anywhere, it was her cue to start moaning. She’ll be all right once we get there, but she doesn’t travel well.’
‘If you’d told me that at home, I would have left her there.’
‘I know, that’s why I didn’t say anything. She has many unresolved psychological problems.’
‘I feel cheated. I’ve adopted a pig in a poke. With a car, you get a service history. They should provide the same for children, or at least point you in the direction of services that allow you to check out their provenance before committing your emotional resources.’
Richards had her head resting on her arms on the table. ‘I’m not listening, you know.’
‘You won’t mind what we say about you then, will you?’
They boarded the plane at eight o’clock. Richards took the window seat, and promptly started snoring.
Parish nudged her.
‘What?’
‘Put
your nose clip on.’
‘People will see.’
‘Much preferable to people hearing. And if you don’t, I’ll keep nudging you.’
She put the clip on.
After a couple of minutes he took a photograph of her with his mobile, and copied it to Kowalski.
‘That was mean,’ Angie said.
He grinned. ‘I know.’
***
Xena’s eyes opened wide. ‘Parish and Richards have gone on an all-expenses paid trip to America, and Gilbert and I are left here with two murders? That’s hardly fair, Chief.’
She’d seen Parish and Richards doing the hokey-cokey along the corridor like drunken partygoers yesterday – so that’s what it was about.
‘You’re not up to it then, DS Blake?’
‘I didn’t say that, Sir. I said it wasn’t fair.’
‘Oh, you’re one of those who thinks life is fair?’
‘I didn’t say that either...’
‘I know a multitude of Inspectors who would kill to have two murders to get their teeth into...’
She’d like to sink her teeth into the Chief’s neck. ‘I can see you’re unsympathetic to the situation, Sir. Just tell me what we’ve got, and I’ll get out of your office.’
‘A female jogger was seen being bundled into a white van early this morning by a keen-eyed postman. He jotted down the vehicle registration, and contacted the police. We sent a squad car to the address of the vehicle’s registered keeper, and an eighteen year old woman was discovered bound and gagged in the van parked on the drive. When they arrested John Smith, the officers noticed an odd smell emanating from the house. Well... I’ll leave Di Heffernan to explain what they’ve found, but you and DC Gilbert did such a good job piecing together Joshua Heywood’s crimes that I thought this one would be right up your street.’
‘Where’s Smith now?’
‘Downstairs waiting to be interviewed.’
This wasn’t the way she liked to start Monday mornings off. A coffee, some banter, wake up slowly to an easy knitting needle murder by a wife who had grown tired of her husband farting as if she didn’t matter anymore – that would be her ideal Monday morning. What she had here wasn’t going to plan at all.
‘Is Smith his real name?’
‘Is it likely I’m going to do your work for you, Blake?’
She sighed. ‘And the other murder, Chief?’
‘A man’s body has been found.’
‘A normal murder then?’
‘Unfortunately not, but Toady will fill you in.’
‘Can I get any help?’
‘I could probably scrape together a Detective Inspector, but you know what that would mean?’
‘I wouldn’t be in charge of the investigation any longer?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Is there any chance of me getting promoted anytime soon?’
‘I’ll look into it, Blake, but I’m not promising anything. There’s a glut of DIs at the moment. They seem to get promoted to DI, and then sit there rubbing their hands with glee waiting for retirement. What we need is a culling.’
‘Thanks anyway, Sir.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said, waving her out absentmindedly as he focussed on a pile of papers on his desk. ‘Briefings at five o’clock.’
‘Okay, Sir.’
Fuck’s sake!
She walked into the squad room to find Stick sitting at his desk reading.
‘Where have you been?’
‘Accident on the...’
‘Leave earlier when you know there’s going to be an accident.’
‘Yes, Sarge. What did the Chief have to say?’
‘What did the Chief not have to say, you mean?’
‘Okay...’
‘We’ve got two murders...’
‘Two?’
‘You’re not going to be one of those partners who repeats everything I say, are you?’
‘No, Sarge. Where are Parish and Richards?’
‘America.’
‘America?’
‘Why do I smell cheap noxious perfume, Stick? Are you wearing perfume?’
‘No, Sarge.’
‘So, how are your teeth now?’
He smiled like a caricature.
‘Fuck’s sake! Are you trying to give me nightmares?’
‘I’ve had the full works.’
She tentatively leaned closer as he opened his mouth and sniffed. ‘I smell toothpaste, mouthwash, and... a perfume cocktail of bleach, condoms, and crappy sex. You’ve not been with a prostitute, have you?’
‘I wouldn’t know how.’
Xena’s eyes creased to slits. ‘There’s something not right about you, Stick.’
‘Why have Parish and Richards gone to America?’
‘Don’t even ask.’
‘We’ve got two murders then?’
‘Right, get off your bony arse, and let’s get moving before we start having the same conversation over and over again.’
‘Did you have a good weekend, Sarge?’
‘What the hell has it got to do with you? Are you writing my biography or something? Remember what I said about keeping on your side of the fence.’
‘Just being friendly.’
‘Poking your nose into my knickers drawer, more like.’
‘Are you going to tell me about the two murders, or...?’
As they made their way out to the car park, Xena informed Stick of what the Chief had told her.
‘We’re going to see the murdered man first, are we?’ Stick asked when they were sitting in the car.
‘Do you think we’d be walking to the car to interview John Smith when he’s actually sitting in the station cells?’
‘Probably not.’
‘Definitely not, you dork. Sometimes I despair of you. While I was in with the Chief I should have asked for a refund. In fact, they should pay me compensation for having to work with a defective partner.’
‘Yes, Sarge.’
‘And while we’re on the subject of partners, there’s still two things I don’t know about you.’
‘Only two things?’
She twisted in the passenger seat to stare at him. ‘What, you mean there’s more secrets you’re keeping from me?’
He smiled.
‘Will you stop smiling like that, you’re giving me the creeps?’
‘Where are we going, Sarge?’
‘The quaint village of Hunsdon, apparently. Follow Rye Road until you reach the B181, and then get onto the B180 to Hunsdon. Once you’re there, turn right off the High Street down Drury Lane. Toadstone and his team are at the end.’
He headed towards the Dinant Link Road. ‘I’ve been looking forward to another juicy murder, and instead we get two.’
‘You’re a crazy person, Stick. Just drive, will you? And remember, you don’t do anything without my say-so, are we clear about that?’
‘Clear, Sarge.’
‘The last thing I need right now is you getting into trouble again, more bloody paperwork.’
‘Understood. Loud and clear. A-ok.’
‘What’s wrong with you this morning? Shut the hell up.’
She couldn’t hear herself think with Stick prattling on about something and nothing. Two murders! No rest for the wicked. And after meeting Buxton – as she called DI Jeannette Carter all the time now – she’d certainly been wicked over the weekend. She’d driven up to Daventry on Friday night, and they’d booked into a cheap anonymous hotel. After some shopping on the Saturday it didn’t take them long to find a man in a club who wanted sex with two women.
They’d had to interview him, of course. What they didn’t want was someone who wasn’t up to the job – someone who ran out of ink after a few strokes of the pen. As it turned out he had amazing staying power, and they’d kept him handcuffed to the bed until Sunday morning.
‘My wife’s going to kill me,’ he said, when they released him.
‘Tell her you were held prisoner by t
wo insatiable women,’ Buxton offered.
‘Yeah,’ Xena agreed. ‘In my experience wives never believe husbands when they’re telling the truth.’
‘Very helpful. I wasn’t even meant to be in that club.’
‘I have no interest in your domestic situation,’ Xena said, as she watched him getting dressed. ‘We’ll be back here in two weeks, do you want to come out and play again?’
‘I’m getting a hard-on just thinking about it. And next time, I’ll be able to craft an excuse for why I’ve gone missing.’
And they all went their separate ways.
Now, here she was, stuck in a car with Stick again. Two murders! Fuck’s sake. She’d have to get her mind out of the gutter, and start doing some thinking. So, a man called John Smith – which obviously wasn’t his real name, because no one was ever seriously called John Smith and lived to tell the tale – was arrested for kidnapping an eighteen year-old jogger. Okay, but what was in his house? The jogger was still alive, so there must be a dead body in his house. Di Heffernan! The bitch. She couldn’t believe she and Stick had been conned out of four boxes of chocolates. Over five hundred pounds for fuck’s sake!
‘I can’t believe you fell for the boxes of chocolate trick, Stick.’
‘As I recall, you fell for it, to.’
‘I was in York trying to solve a murder.’
‘I was here solving the murder.’
‘And getting yourself nearly killed in the process. If it hadn’t been for me, you’d be worm meat by now.’
‘Have I said how grateful I am?’
‘Numerous times, but don’t think you can stop yet.’
Yeah, she needed to get even with the bitch. No one messed with Xena Blake and her partner without dire consequences. She had to section off a portion of her brain to devote to that little problem.
She hadn’t worked with Toadstone before, so she’d have to see whether he was any good. He’d better not try any tricks, otherwise she’d castrate the bastard.
A dead man, and not a normal murder according to the Chief. What did that mean?