Bliss thought back to Tuesday evening, the sight of Jane Doe’s remains lying in a heap. A life discarded so casually. Bernard Weller had known something about it. Had wanted to tell Bliss. Now he was no longer around to tell anyone anything. Police officer involvement. The phrase screamed at Bliss, who knew exactly what it might mean. Not just for him, but for everyone involved with the investigation. Bliss pulled himself back to what Penny had just said, feeling a weight starting to press down on his shoulders.
‘Of course my suspicions should be reported, Penny.’ Bliss rubbed the heel of his hand across his scar. ‘I don’t need reminding of that. But I’m not going to shift any wheels into gear until I know exactly in which direction they’re pointed. And, perhaps more importantly, where they’ll end up.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Bliss leaned in, lowering his voice despite them being alone in the room. ‘Penny, Bernard Weller wasn’t the only officer who attended the scene of that reported accident. He wasn’t the only officer involved with the investigation. And if, as we suspect, Weller was murdered in order to prevent him telling me something about our Jane Doe, don’t you think it would be wise for us to find out more about what we’re dealing with before we plunge in head first?’
The startled look on her face told him his words had struck home. It hadn’t occurred to her that they themselves might become targets because of what they knew and suspected. Or that whoever had them in their cross hairs might be working in the same job. Perhaps even the same station, Bliss thought then, licking lips that were suddenly very dry.
‘If Weller can get hit, what’s to stop us being next?’ Chandler said in a hushed tone. ‘That’s what you’re telling me.’
‘It is, yes.’
‘So what do you propose to do?’
Bliss studied his DC. She looked wary now, possibly frightened. He didn’t like being the one to have put that fear in place, but neither would it have been right to have let her remain unaware of the possibilities he was seeing.
‘I want to have Weller’s phone records checked out. He called me. Maybe he called someone else.’
‘Is that likely? I mean, you said his manner was… secretive.’
‘It was. But if I’m right about this, about what happened to Weller, then someone else knew he was going to be driving down to Peterborough. And when.’
Chandler shook her head, puffing out her cheeks. ‘I don’t like this, boss. I don’t like anything about it. It’s going to be tough keeping this to ourselves. Maybe even impossible.’
Bliss met her frank and even gaze once more. He’d asked a lot of her in the past, and now he was doing it again. Playing with her career. He would take the blame if it all got bent out of shape, but if Penny was caught withholding evidence that might be viewed as pertinent, even vital to their ongoing case, it would hurt her. He came to a swift decision.
‘Look, I’m sorry, Penny,’ he said softly. ‘This has already got way out of hand. Let’s agree that this conversation never took place. In fact, no conversation relating to DI Weller took place between us. You carry on with the official investigation as part of the squad, working with the facts as the squad has them. Whatever’s on the boards will be your game plan. I’ll be working it, too. Only I’ll be working with what’s not on those boards. I’m going to get Bobby involved in your place. He’ll be safe if the brown stuff hits the fan, and he has no career ambitions.’
Her face took on all kinds of creases. ‘Why?’
‘I need some help with this, Pen. Bobby’s the next best thing to you.’
She shook her head abruptly. ‘No, I mean why are you dumping me in favour of him?’
‘I’m not dumping you. I’m shifting you out of harm’s way.’
‘Again, why?’
‘Because, as you rightly pointed out, it will be difficult to investigate this angle without it becoming common knowledge. If it all goes off, I don’t want you harmed by any fallout.’
‘Isn’t that my choice? We’re a team. You and me, I mean. You confided in me, and I’m big enough to decide for myself whether or not to get involved.’
Bliss smiled, as impressed with her now as he had been earlier by Mia Strong. ‘I know you are. But it’s because we’re a team that it’s unfair. Your loyalty alone would prevent you from going over my head to report this matter.’
‘Which I still could,’ Chandler argued. ‘Just because these conversations never took place, doesn’t mean I didn’t hear them.’
Bliss raised a hand. He shifted uneasily in his chair, uncomfortable now. ‘Hold on a second. Why are we having a row about this? I’m offering you a way out.’
‘And I don’t want to take it.’ Penny crossed her legs at the ankles and folded her arms. Indignant. Bliss smiled once more. She was every bit as determined, pig-headed and stubborn as he had once been and probably still was.
‘Okay,’ he said, relenting. He got to his feet and stretched his legs. He waited for any sign of imbalance, but he felt fine. ‘But Bobby is already part of this and I want him to carry on with it as well. We could actually do with one more body. Any ideas?’
‘Mia,’ Chandler answered without pause. ‘She’s low-key, and will keep this as quiet as it needs to be.’
‘You do know what you’ll be asking her to take on? You do understand that if Weller was somehow involved with what happened to our Jane Doe, no matter how peripherally, we’re going to have to look at every other investigating officer as well. Particularly…’ He came back to his desk, eyes quickly scanning the sheet of notes. ‘PC Hendry, who attended the scene with Weller.’
‘She’ll be as fine with it as I am.’ Chandler gave a confident nod. ‘We’re mates, and I know her very well. We have similar ideals. But you know, maybe we’re getting worked up over nothing. DI Weller, Sergeant Weller as he was at the time, attended the scene of a reported incident. That just means he was around at the time. Maybe he was going to talk to you about our Jane Doe, but perhaps the information he was going to give you had nothing to do with what happened to her afterwards.’
Bliss peered sceptically at her. ‘You don’t honestly believe that. I know you better, Penny.’
‘Perhaps I don’t believe it. And I know you don’t. That doesn’t make it a lie.’
Nodding, he dropped his eyes to the list of officers whose names had come up in relation to the incident. ‘So we know what became of Weller. Any idea about his partner that night, Ian Hendry?’
‘Doesn’t ring a bell.’
‘So that’s one name to chase down. That just leaves us with the duty officer they reported to after attending the scene, PC Clive Rhodes.’ Bliss’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. ‘Rhodes? Isn’t he still based at Bridge Street Central?’
A rapid nod. ‘Yep. A sergeant now.’
‘All right. See if he’s on duty. If not, get his address and we’ll pay him a visit. Oh, and see if you can also locate PC Hendry.’
When Chandler had gone, Bliss sat down and eased back in his chair. He rolled his neck, hoping to ease some of the tension building there, but the motion made him feel a little dizzy. The buzzing in his ears suddenly increased in both timbre and loudness, and a machine-like sound pulsed with each beat of his heart. From a website he had learned that one of the Ménière’s triggers was stress, and stressful just about summed up the notion that he might soon be investigating one or more of his own colleagues.
But it was Friday, and a quiet weekend would ease the strain, provided he could force himself to relax – not an inconsiderable matter. A few hours with Bonnie and Clyde over by the Ferry Meadows lakes would soften the edges at least. He was neither on duty nor on call for the next two days, so there would be an opportunity to switch off.
Bliss coughed a harsh laugh at himself. Switch off? Sure. Easy enough. All he had to do was break the habits of a lifetime. He shook his head and read the report in his hand one more time.
Over the next few hours, trickles of information began to leak in. Mia Strong re
ported that Malcolm Twist, the witness who made the first emergency call, now lived in Chicago.
‘Do you want me to have him traced, boss?’ she asked Bliss.
‘Of course. I know it’s a long time ago, and it seems like he had the least to report the night it happened, but who knows what tumblers might fall into place if he’s asked to recall exactly what he heard.’
‘All right. I’ll get it actioned.’
‘Any news on McAndrew?’
Mia shook her head. Smiled. Cute smile to match her high-cheeked, flawless features. Bliss knew that many of her male colleagues had tried it on and, given that her personality matched her looks and physique, he understood why. Yet from what he had learned from the rumour mill, Mia avoided work-based romances like the plague and was living happily with a secondary school teacher.
‘We can’t find out anything from the hostel directly,’ she told him. ‘So we’re working on the council.’
‘Hmm. That’ll be like pulling teeth.’
Mia laughed. ‘I’ll try and charm them if I have to.’
‘I’m sure you can.’ Bliss first smiled, and then became serious once more. ‘Does that bother you, Mia? Using your looks to gain an advantage, I mean.’
‘Does it bother me personally?’
‘No, professionally. Does it piss you off that someone will open up to you more because of what you look like than who and what you are?’
Strong thought about it for a moment. Then shook her head. ‘Swings and roundabouts, really. I can get some blokes eating out of my hands, but women tend to clam right up.’
‘I think you probably intimidate them.’
‘I suppose so. Still, like I say, I win some and lose some. As for it bothering me, I think it would if my superiors thought the same way.’
Bliss nodded. ‘I hope you know I don’t. I’m not saying I would never use your appearance to our advantage, but with me your abilities come first.’
‘I can live with that, boss,’ Strong told him.
He was writing up his notes when a call came in from Technical Services. The head of the department was a civilian, an intense, earnest individual called Vic Tallow.
‘I’ve pulled the records on Bernard Weller’s phones, Inspector. It wasn’t too difficult. On the night in question there was no activity on his mobile, but on the landline there were two calls. One made, one received.’
Bliss knew the made call had been to him, which left the one received. ‘Which occurred first?’ he asked.
‘About a quarter of an hour before Weller phoned you, one came in from a mobile.’
‘And you can trace it, yes?’ Bliss felt a jab of excitement.
‘Um, yes and no. Yes, we traced it. But no, I can’t give you a name. The number can’t be located and matched against an owner. My guess is they must be using a fake SIM card.’
‘Damn.’ Bliss felt as if ice-cold water had been poured over his genitals. ‘So it’s a dead end, right? You can’t take it any further?’
‘Sorry, no.’
‘Is it possible to tell me how long the call lasted?’
‘That I can do. Uh, just shy of four minutes.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Vic. You did your best.’ It was hard not to sound disappointed.
Having Tech Services run Weller’s records had been a judgement call. Bliss had no wish to advertise Weller’s name, but he needed information. Bliss’s request would be logged, but because the technicians were civilians they would respond only to requests, so Tallow would simply move on to the next one without giving it a second thought.
When Chandler returned to his office, she had both bad and even worse news for Bliss. ‘Sergeant Rhodes is on sick leave and can’t be reached on his home number,’ she told him. ‘And as for Hendry, he left the job in ninety-two and joined the Air Force.’
Bliss let go a lengthy, frustrated sigh. He thumbed the small scar on his brow. This was not going anywhere near as well as he’d hoped. What had started out as a cold case likely to remain unsolved was fast becoming the stuff of nightmares.
‘Okay. Have someone keep trying Rhodes, and in the meanwhile see if you can find out where Hendry is based. Let’s just hope it’s not bloody Iraq.’
Laughing, Chandler said, ‘No, we’ll get lucky, I’m sure. Cheer up, boss. We’ve taken a big step forward today.’
He wasn’t quite so certain, but Bliss nodded anyway. ‘I suppose we have. Let’s hope it’s not followed by two larger ones backwards.’
Chapter 14
On Saturday morning, Bliss took time over his breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, idly scanning the pages of the Daily Mail in between bites. Aside from the sports section and the adverts, every other page screamed bad news, and there was a sour, desperate slant to the editorial style. Bliss wondered if it was time to cancel the paper and try TV news for a change. Either that or forget about the outside world altogether.
He’d managed to get away from work shortly after six the previous evening, having endured the dubious twin pleasures of delivering a second media briefing, followed by twenty minutes stuck in a room with Superintendent Sykes. Press attendance was down fifty per cent already; old bones were fast becoming old news. A wise man had once said that today’s headlines were tomorrow’s fish and chips wrapper. These days they no longer used newspaper to wrap food, but the fish were just as dead and they didn’t give a damn. To those who bothered to attend the briefing, Bliss fed the bare essentials, omitting any of the leads that had not led to direct contact so far. He concluded the briefing by promising more updates on Monday, and could almost taste their apathy. Sheryl Craig, the rag-doll lookalike who worked for the Evening Telegraph, attempted to hijack the briefing again, but she was not subtle about it and Bliss cut her short. He wasn’t playing her games anymore.
In a hurry to get away for the weekend, Sykes was unusually civil. Though his attention seemed to be focused elsewhere, he asked to be brought up to date with the case. Bliss briefly outlined everything they had, leaving aside the path that led to Weller. The super seemed satisfied, if as unenthusiastic as the press, with the way things were going. The conversation was all business, mostly courteous. They traded a couple of mild insults, but it was pretty innocuous. Sykes demanded he be kept in the loop, and Bliss agreed to do so. They both knew he would do no such thing. The lack of genuine interest was evident in the super’s demeanour.
Cold case. Dead fish.
Bliss spent much of Friday evening watching Aliens and Blade Runner. He’d seen both movies so many times that every scene was branded upon his mind, each piece of dialogue pre-empted by his own lips. It didn’t matter that no surprises lay in store; for him, being absorbed by the storylines and characters was more than enough. Bliss loved the genre. He’d heard that Peterborough had its own sci-fi association, and, though mildly interested in what they might have to offer a man of his tastes, he had imagined it to be populated by nervous, sweaty men who could speak Klingon better than they could English. He wasn’t one for clubs, anyway.
When the movies were over, Bliss still wasn’t in the least bit tired, but he had no intention of taking another sleeping pill. For an hour or so he sat playing his guitar, headphones plugged into the amplifier so as not to annoy the neighbours. As with everything else in his life, music had taken a back seat following his wife’s death, but during his suspension from work he’d taken the Ibanez out of mothballs and got his fingers loose once more. He worked his way through familiar numbers, closing his mind off to everything except the chords and scales. It felt good to lose himself in something so heartfelt.
In bed before midnight for the first time in many weeks, feeling relaxed and clear of thought, Bliss knew nothing more until he woke shortly before seven. It was the first decent night’s sleep he’d had in months. Strange that it had come now, at a time of such heightened stress in both his personal and professional life. The weekend opened up before him.
His eggs now devoured, half-eaten cold toast scraped into
the bin, Bliss was washing the dishes when the phone rang. He looked at it coldly before answering its summons. It had to be work, and that could only mean either a breakthrough on the case or trouble.
He was wrong.
‘I’ve been waiting for you to call me,’ said Emily Grant without preamble.
Bliss searched his mind rapidly. Couldn’t recall arranging anything of the kind. ‘Sorry. I’ve been busy with the investigation, as you might imagine. Remind me why I was supposed to call.’
‘It’s not that you were supposed to. More, I was hoping you would.’
A breath caught in his chest. ‘Oh. I see.’
‘Don’t sound so wary, Jimmy. I don’t bite. Not in a bad way, at least.’
He chuckled. Emily Grant had an admirably direct way about her. Even stretching so far as to make the first move, it seemed. After a moment’s pause, Bliss pushed caution aside.
‘I’m glad to hear it. Look, Emily, I was just about to head out for a walk. Would you like to meet Bonnie and Clyde?’
He heard her laugh, and could immediately picture Emily’s beaming face. It was a pleasant image. ‘Who could resist such an intriguing offer?’ she asked.
They arranged to meet at Orton Mere. Emily wore a dark blue puffa jacket to ward off both the chill and the threatened rain if it fell. Beneath the jacket she had on a black sweater and dark blue jeans. She looked good. Smelled good, too, a light, citrus fragrance that hung in the cold air around her. Emily made a fuss over the Labs, who repaid her interest with plenty of huffing and lapping tongues. When the dogs finally lost interest, Bliss and Emily strode side by side towards the mere.
‘Is this how you usually spend your days off?’ she asked him.
Bliss nodded. ‘As often as I can. The dogs are good company. How about you? What do you get up to in your spare time?’
‘Oh, I’m a lot lazier than you. My only real hobby is painting, and I rarely get around to that these days. I read a lot, and I like my music.’
‘Sounds like a decent way to pass the time. Let me guess: Danielle Steel and classical?’
Bad to the Bone Page 14