Bad to the Bone

by Tony J. Forder

  Bliss gave a stifled laugh. ‘Yes. Unfortunately, I do.’

  ‘This was never going to have a happy ending. Why waste valuable resources on it?’

  ‘Why indeed?’ Bliss shook his head and turned to walk away. ‘Perhaps we should ask Jodie Maybanks’s parents that question.’

  Chapter 24

  Bliss knew something was wrong the moment he opened his front door to find Bobby Dunne standing on the doorstep. Rain was falling so hard that Dunne looked soaked through even though his car was parked only yards away on the small drive. So close, in fact, that Bliss could hear the time bomb ticking of the engine as it cooled, steam rising from the bonnet as if from a skillet.

  ‘Got a few minutes, Jimmy?’ Dunne asked. As usual his face gave nothing away.

  Bliss checked his watch. ‘Fifty of them,’ he said, stepping to one side and allowing his colleague inside. ‘My undivided attention. Then you’re on your bike.’

  ‘Seeing the Bone Woman tonight?’

  ‘Actually I am. She’s due here at eight, by which time you’ll be gone. Fancy a drink?’

  Dunne nodded. ‘A beer if you have one.’

  Bliss jerked his thumb in the direction of the lounge. ‘Grab a seat.’

  A couple of minutes later he handed his DS a cold bottle of Directors bitter, and then took a seat opposite. Dunne had shed his jacket and was sitting with a bundle of folders on his lap, the buff envelopes fastened together with a thick rubber band. He took a sip of beer, gave the obligatory sigh of satisfaction, and sat back on the sofa. He smiled and shook his head as his eyes devoured the room.

  ‘Three years,’ he said. ‘Three years you’ve lived here and still it looks as if you’ve either just moved in or are about to move out.’

  ‘Penny said pretty much the same thing the other night.’

  ‘I know. This time it’s my turn to nag.’

  ‘I’ll put my mark on it eventually.’ Bliss allowed his own gaze to wander. Beige walls, no photos and no pictures. A few meagre sticks of furniture. Only the TV and hi-fi looked as if they were comfortable here. More at home than he was. Perhaps more than he would ever be.

  ‘Maybe the Bone Woman can help you out there, boss.’

  ‘It’s a bit too soon to start thinking along those lines, Bobby. We’re taking baby steps at the moment, mate.’

  Dunne tipped the neck of his bottle. ‘Penny reckons she’ll be good for you.’

  Bliss rolled his eyes. ‘Penny. That young woman wants to take the place of my mother, I swear it.’

  The sergeant laughed. The fingers of the hand not clutching the bottle beat a restless tattoo on the stack of folders. Bliss noticed, eyes drawn to the movement, ears to the sound. Dunne’s apparent anxiety was unusual.

  ‘So, what brings you here tonight, Bobby? I hope you signed for those records and case notes.’

  There was a slight pause. It lasted long enough for Bliss to think, No, don’t tell me, Bobby. Get up and walk away and let’s never talk of this. I have a feeling that what we’re about to discuss here will change my life forever.

  Dunne blew out some air. His eyes were glazed. ‘I’ve found the link, boss. A link, anyway. The name of one officer who crops up in both the triple nine and the MisPer cases relating to Jodie Maybanks. Crops up in a significant way, too. In a way that’s not entirely reflected on the electronic version of our records.’

  Bliss eyed him for a few seconds. He remembered sensing something unusual about Bobby Dunne during lunch at the Pizza Hut. ‘You found these records this afternoon?’

  ‘No. This morning.’

  ‘So why not mention it while Penny was with us?’

  Dunne stared at him. ‘Because Penny was with us.’

  ‘I hope you can explain that, Bobby.’

  ‘I can. Fact is, Jimmy, the same officer signed off all the logs and case notes relating to the accident and the report made by Connie Rawlings.’

  Bliss processed that news. Something acidic squirted in his stomach, which seemed to swell and press against his skin. His flesh crawled and prickled. His instincts had been right; this was going to be big.

  ‘Then we must be talking about a senior officer,’ he said.

  ‘We are. Even more senior now.’

  Swallowing hard and with some degree of difficulty, Bliss began to understand why Dunne had not wanted to involve Penny. ‘Who are we talking about, Bobby? Is it someone still stationed in the city?’

  Dunne set his bottle down on the carpet. He peeled off the rubber band and spread the folders, fanning them out like a deck of cards. ‘It’s all in here. The man we now have to look at very closely is Joseph Flynn. Inspector Flynn back then.’

  Bliss couldn’t have been more shocked if Dunne had told him Martians had been responsible. ‘Flynn? Detective Chief Superintendent Flynn?’

  Dunne gave a slow, solemn nod. ‘It’s not just that he’s the only officer who is named in both cases, either. I checked the paperwork relating to each incident, and in the triple nine one it was Flynn who made the decision to drop the inquiry at such an early stage, and it was Flynn who suggested that McAndrew may have been intoxicated when he made the call. Flynn also closed the MisPer case, citing Jodie Maybanks’s occupation as reason enough to believe that she had simply moved on to another area. Flynn got involved in both, he closed both. These particular records and case notes were buried well away from the ones our team discovered, and according to the signature on the inside flap, Flynn was the last officer to have had them.’

  Bliss swallowed, something terrible snagging in his throat. It made sense for a senior officer to be involved, but none at all that the officer in question was Joe Flynn. Bliss knew people, he knew his fellow officers, and Flynn had come across as one of the good guys. Which, Bliss thought, perhaps he was. Now. He glanced across at Dunne.

  ‘Surely we’re not saying Flynn is also responsible for Weller and Dean? Tell me we’re not thinking that, Bobby.’

  ‘We have to think that, boss. We have no choice but to start there.’

  Bliss ran a hand across his scar. Beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. Cold. Clammy. It was possible that Flynn had covered the tracks for someone else, and that the same someone else was responsible for the murders of Weller and Dean. Equally, it was entirely possible that Flynn lived behind a mask and had blood dripping from his hands. Bobby Dunne was right, though. Flynn was in the frame for it all, and everything they did from this point on had to be based on that premise.

  ‘You’re certain his is the only name that crops up in both cases?’

  Dunne nodded. ‘Neither Weller nor Hendry were listed on the MisPer report. PC Rhodes, duty officer the night of the triple nine, may have been on duty at the time of the MisPer, but he’s not named.’

  Bliss leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, head dropping into his hands. Not an ounce of his experience or expertise could have led him to this outcome. That Flynn was involved felt like a betrayal. Strands were interlocking at last, but for the first time in his career, Bliss wished he could simply walk away from a crime.

  ‘You were right to keep this from Penny,’ he said to Dunne. He wet his lips, feeling a sharp pain building behind the hollows of his eyes. This was going to be a long, dark night. ‘I need to think very hard before I involve her any further.’

  ‘What’s to involve?’ Dunne asked. He’d picked up his beer again and had taken a long swig. ‘You’ll be dropping this now, right?’

  ‘Dropping it?’

  The bottle paused halfway back to Dunne’s mouth. His eyes became thin slits. ‘Of course. You’re not going to continue investigating this? Not now you know who is involved.’

  ‘What else do you suggest I do?’

  ‘Bury it, man. As deep as you possibly can. I’ll put these files back where they’ll never be found again. Wind the Jodie Maybanks case down, close it like Sykes wants you to, and forget all about it. No one need know a thing.’

  ‘I’ll know.’

/>   ‘So what? Nothing good can come of this now.’

  Bliss knew the DS was right. Bad could only now get worse. Still he gave an apologetic shrug. ‘I have to pursue this, Bobby.’

  Dunne’s features took on a look of astonishment. ‘With respect, Jimmy, are you crazy? Are you out of your fucking mind? We’re talking about Joe Flynn here. The most respected Detective Chief Superintendent in the entire county. He’s already earmarked for the next rung on the ladder. He’s Mr Goldenballs, and you want to chase him down.’

  ‘I know all that. Damnit, Bobby, I regard him as a personal friend. But if he’s our man, I have to do something about it.’

  ‘And what if he’s only involved in the Jodie Maybanks murder? What if Weller and Dean are down to someone else? Someone who helped Flynn back then. Or may have been helped by Flynn.’

  ‘Then he’s still guilty. Of something. Guilty and still running our nick.’

  ‘I can’t believe you want to go digging around in this now you know Flynn is in the frame,’ Dunne complained.

  Bliss kept his gaze steady and unblinking. ‘And I can’t believe you don’t.’

  Bobby Dunne got to his feet, setting the folders aside as he filled the room with his frame. ‘But it would be madness, boss. You can’t sniff around someone like him without kicking up a shit-storm. If he gets to hear about it he’ll crucify you, even if he’s done nothing wrong. And if he’s guilty of what you think he is, then it may be even worse. You’re not just risking your career here, Jimmy. You could be risking your life.’

  Dunne was on a roll. Absolutely right in everything he said. From his own bitter experience, Bliss knew that sometimes you broke the rules, broke the very laws you’d vowed to uphold, and he had been guilty of both in the past. But there were also times when you had to confront apparent hypocrisies, ignore the warning voices inside your head, and do what your heart told you. DCS Flynn was everything Bliss thought a senior officer should be; he’d come up through the ranks, had walked a tough beat in the Toxteth area of Liverpool, had led officers stoically despite his personal political beliefs during the miners’ strikes, and held the reins of power with the grip of a man who had never forgotten his roots. Flynn had taken a gamble on Bliss when few others had even considered the risk, had looked beyond the sealed records and ill-disguised disdain from the Met, and demonstrated solidarity and compassion once the air had settled after the last major murder inquiry debacle.

  Bliss owed Flynn. Big time. But not if the man was a murderer. Bliss felt the same indignation now as he had when speaking to Gordon Wilson, the Snake. It didn’t matter what good you did afterwards. Taking a life meant you would always be a killer. It was a badge of dishonour you could never throw away. Bliss looked deep within himself and accepted that a part of him wanted to do exactly as Dunne had suggested, to just turn his back and move on. But the larger part of him demanded he do the right thing.

  ‘I have to do this, Bobby,’ he said eventually, hearing the dull tone of disappointment in his own voice. ‘I know what the risks are. I’m not asking you to stick with me. I don’t expect that from you, would not expect it from anyone. Just promise me you won’t do anything to force me to make it official.’

  The heavily built sergeant had retaken his seat and now sat on the edge of the cushion with both hands pressed to his temples. He couldn’t look small if he tried, but to Bliss he did appear shrunken.

  ‘I’m not sure what I want to do at the moment, boss. Apart from run a mile, that is. Logic tells me to back off, leave you to it, but something else tells me you’re going to need some help.’

  ‘Don’t do it for me, Bobby.’ Bliss shook his head. ‘Do what’s right for you. I carry my own water.’

  ‘And Penny?’

  ‘That one I’ll sleep on.’

  ‘Perhaps I’ll do the same.’

  ‘Fair enough. Usual pre-briefing meeting in my office, then?’

  DS Dunne let go a huge sigh. It seemed to last minutes. ‘I still say you’re crazy.’

  Bliss barked a short, humourless laugh. ‘You may well be right.’

  ‘Sorry I ruined your evening, Jimmy.’

  Bliss frowned. Then he realised what Dunne meant. For a few minutes he’d forgotten all about Emily Grant and their night out together. The job again. It had taken over. And from what Bobby Dunne had just told him, it wasn’t about to let go any time soon.

  Chapter 25

  The movie was excellent. The Pixar people had done it again. The basic premise about a bunch of dysfunctional aliens trying to live as human beings reminded Bliss of the American TV comedy, 3rd Rock from the Sun. Bliss thought the script was hysterical, way too smart for kids. CGI graphics seemed to have advanced yet again. He loved his sci-fi stuff, but films like Toy Story, Shrek, Ice Age and The Incredibles had blown him away. This new one was right up there.

  The company had been pretty good, too.

  After the film, he and Emily Grant had a couple of drinks in the Windmill, where he had taken her for their meal on Sunday. The bar was small and reeked of old world charm, the original stonework exposed, net curtains up at the tiny windows, sturdy wooden support beams functional rather than aesthetic. The place was a thick fug of smoke, but the atmosphere was pleasant and, best of all, they sold Guinness. Bliss put away the first one quickly, relaxed more over the second.

  ‘You seem to have a lot on your mind,’ Emily said, taking Bliss by surprise. He thought he’d managed to keep his concerns at bay, his mind on their date. She’d seen through him, though.

  He apologised. ‘I don’t mean to be distant. I’ve really enjoyed myself tonight.’

  ‘You haven’t been distant. Not exactly. I can just tell.’

  He inclined his head. Allowed the observation with a rueful grin. ‘With my job it’s not always possible to switch off completely. I’m not exactly conscious of my mind wandering, but I know it does.’

  ‘You did seem to be wrapped up in the film, though.’ She smiled at him, drank some of her white wine.

  ‘It was a good choice. I’m a sucker for films like that. It surprised me that you were, though.’

  Her smile grew broader. ‘Yet again my choice of career goes before me. I’m sure you’re not the only one who thinks I’m an old fuddy-duddy whose idea of fun is a night in with the cats and a spot of knitting before my pre-bed Horlicks.’

  Bliss put down his glass. ‘Hey, I don’t think anything of the sort. I’m sorry if I…’

  Emily was laughing at him now. ‘I’m kidding, Jimmy,’ she said. ‘You’re so easy to tease.’

  He took a breath. Notched back his shoulders a little. Nodded and smiled. ‘Yeah, you had me going there.’

  ‘Really?’ Her eyebrows twitched. ‘I had no idea I had that effect on you.’

  Both coy and flirtatious at the same time. Bliss liked that about her. As their eyes met his mind wound on the clock. Where next? Another peck on the cheek outside in the car park, or coffee back at his place? The anxiety he was feeling now was different from anything related to either work or his illness. Bliss knew his job inside out, backed his judgement every time, and he was coming to terms with the immediate effects of the disease. Both were challenges, but this was different. This was personal and he had no idea how to proceed. It had been such a long time.

  As if she had been reading his mind, Emily leaned across the table and took his hand in hers. ‘I’ll put you out of your misery,’ she said. ‘I’m not a tease, though I am flirting with you. I like you very much, Jimmy, but I’m not about to jump into bed with you. I’m not the kind of woman who has needs without some kind of emotional bond. I think there’s hope for us, and if we get there I can guarantee you a damn good time. But neither of us is ready, so I don’t think we’re quite there yet. Is that all right by you?’

  It was his turn to laugh. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite as blunt as you.’

  ‘Is it a trait you approve of?’

  Bliss nodded. ‘Very much so. And ye
s, it is all right by me. I like you, too, Emily, and I find you very attractive. But if I’m honest, you’re right when you say I’m not ready.’

  ‘And I thought men were always ready.’

  He remembered something she had said on the night he’d called her out to Bretton Woods. ‘Maybe I’m not quite as shallow as you thought I was.’

  Emily took a sip of her drink. ‘Oh, I could see that right from the word go, Jimmy. You have an unnatural depth.’

  He frowned. ‘I’m not sure “unnatural” is a good word to be using.’

  ‘I’m not sure either. Not yet.’

  She asked him about the investigation, how it was proceeding. It was a leap away from their discussion, but Bliss was glad of it.

  ‘It’s not.’ He hated lying to her, but anything else he told her other than the complete truth would not gel with what would be reported in the local media following Sykes’s briefing. And there was no way he could reveal what was really going on. Bliss settled for offering the official line.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ she said. ‘Somehow I feel close to this young woman. I suppose because I’ve spent time with her, handled her bones. It’s sad to think that we may never know what happened to her.’

  ‘I agree. But is there much difference between Jodie’s remains and those that are, say, a thousand years old?’

  ‘Yes. Because she was murdered during my lifetime. It always makes a difference.’

  Bliss couldn’t argue with that. ‘It’s not completely over,’ he allowed. ‘Who knows what the next couple of days may bring? I’ve seen cases move from dead to solved within a few hours.’

  ‘She needs to be at peace.’

  ‘If I can help her, I will.’ The promise was made as much to himself as Emily.

  They settled for parting in the pub car park, but this time it was no peck on the cheek. Emily’s lips were warm and soft, their kiss long and gentle. Her fingers brushed his cheek.