by Mari Hannah
‘Just doing my job, Kate. No need to take it personally.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Boss?’ Ending his call, Hank tried to attract Kate’s attention. ‘We need to get going.’
‘Wait!’ She glowered at him before turning back to Garvey. ‘You’re experienced enough to know the rules, Gillian. It’s basic procedure to turn off your phone. You obviously don’t know what silent mode is. Next time you want my help, you’ll find out. That special relationship we have? Forget it. You’ve pulled one too many strokes and I don’t appreciate being made to look stupid in front of the national press, my boss and the head of fucking CID! I’m sick of your stupid games—’
‘Boss?’ Hank thumbed towards the door. ‘We’ve got to go.’
‘When I’m ready,’ she barked. ‘Wait in the car.’
He held his ground, sending her a silent message that another public row wasn’t a good idea. She glared at him, prepared to order him out if necessary. She was exhausted, the stress of working flat out for the past week without any time off finally getting to her. Towner’s accident and her spat with Jo hadn’t helped. Gillian Garvey’s antics were the tipping point.
A sharp tap on her shoulder made her turn around.
She came face-to-face with Bright.
Looking beyond her, he smiled at Garvey. ‘Well done, Gillian. You pipped us to the post again, I see. Give us a minute, will you?’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You too, Hank.’ Then, to Kate: ‘A word in your shell-like, if I may? My office.’
‘We need to go, guv,’ Hank said. ‘The lads from Strathclyde have been on the blower—’ He stopped talking mid-sentence, a warning look from Bright telling him to back off.
Garvey saw it too, made her excuses and left.
Kate’s brow creased. If Bright couldn’t say what was on his mind in front of Hank, it must be serious. If he was angry with her, or disappointed with her performance, so what? That made two of them. Surely he could see that she was in a hurry. With the sighting of Finn O’Kane in Glasgow, she was desperate to get a shift on.
Garvey could wait. For now.
Acutely aware of Hank’s eyes drilling a hole in the side of her head, she glanced in his direction. ‘I’ll meet you at the car.’
Concern spread over his face.
Kate realized then that he’d tried warning her, that Bright must’ve been standing there the whole time she was yelling at Garvey. Not the way he’d want his star pupil to behave to a member of the press. A bollocking was private. As the Senior Investigating Officer of a high-profile case, she should’ve had more sense.
The Detective Chief Superintendent remained tightlipped as he led her down the corridor, a walk that seemed longer than usual. She felt much like a schoolchild being taken to the headmaster for a telling off. Instructing Ellen Crawford, his PA, that they weren’t to be disturbed, he entered his office first and sat down, inviting Kate to do the same, meeting her eyes across his desk.
After what seemed like ages, she felt obligated to fill the silence with an apology. ‘Guv, I’m sorry about the press conference. I let Gillian get the better of me. And that silly cow from the press office is as bad.’ Kate shook her head. ‘The woman is a complete liability. Someone should have a word with her.’ She could feel herself blushing. ‘Other than me, I mean. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barked at her like that. I don’t know what got into me.’
‘That’s not why I wanted to see you.’
‘Oh?’ Kate relaxed.
Thank God!
For a moment, she thought she’d misread the situation. He’d been meaning to tell her something for days. She was dying to know what it was and hoped that it was better news than his intense expression suggested.
She’d seen happier undertakers.
‘What the hell were you doing in Whitby?’ he asked.
The question winded her like a body blow. The room suddenly got smaller, the mere mention of the town sending shock waves to her brain. The man she revered so highly had caught her out. She felt hot, unable to think straight, and hoped it didn’t show. Her response was pathetic. ‘When, guv?’
‘Oh, so you weren’t there?’
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘You’ve lost me.’
His jaw bunched, demonstrating his irritation with her. Kate studied his face. There was no humour in his eyes, no sarky smile on his lips. His favourite DCI wasn’t feeling the love. Wasn’t feeling anything. She was staggered by this development – totally numbed by what might come next. He wouldn’t tolerate any more nonsense.
She eyeballed him. ‘How did you know?’
‘Hank told me.’
‘No he didn’t. How did you find out?’
‘You think chief superintendents have nothing better to do than sit at their desks with their feet up, drinking tea and bending paperclips?’ He picked up his Journal and chucked it at her. ‘I read the newspapers, Kate. Suspiciously, an old informant of yours was run over while crossing the road in North Yorkshire on the very day you and Hank were tied up doing extensive enquiries out of area and couldn’t be contacted. I put two and two together and made four . . . because I’m a detective. I am still a detective, you know, even though I haven’t got a proper job. Was Alan Townsend registered?’
‘He’s not an informant now.’
‘He’s not anything now!’ Bright had fire in his eyes. ‘I asked you a question that demands an answer. Was. He. Registered?’
‘No, guv.’
‘Did you tell Naylor where you were going?’
Kate shook her head.
‘Why not?’
‘I needed information!’ She stood up, began pacing up and down. ‘Guv, I did what I thought was right. When people ring up with information, I don’t question it, I act on it. You taught me that, in case you’d forgotten.’
‘Sit down! And don’t get arsy with me.’
‘I’m not!’ Retaking her seat, she sucked in a big breath, realizing that she was in deep trouble. ‘Towner wanted to meet in that location. I thought he sounded serious enough to pursue it. So much so that I was prepared to get in my car, drive all the way down there and fly by the seat of my pants. When I saw him, he was frightened. Terrified. I knew he had information to give and when I mentioned the O’Kanes, he got up and ran away. Bang! The car hit him a split-second later.’
‘Jesus!’ Bright’s eyes found the window. His expression was grave when he turned to face her. ‘What have I told you about breaking the rules? I’ve warned you so many times to run things by me first. You were out of the force area, pursuing someone who is now dead. Tell me he didn’t run from you.’
Kate studied her shoes.
‘Did you run after him?’
‘Yes.’ Kate’s answer was spontaneous and emphatic. ‘Quarter of an hour before, not when he died.’
‘Come on!’ He was shaking his head. ‘You don’t expect me to buy that!’
‘It’s the truth, guv, I swear.’
‘Any witnesses?’
‘Plenty.’
‘Is that code for Hank?’ Bright snorted. ‘He’d say anything to save your ass.’
‘He wasn’t even there.’
‘Do not lie to me!’
‘He wasn’t! He came along afterwards. I promise you, he knows nothing about it. This is my neck on the line, not his!’
He shook his head. ‘You and your damned loyalty—’
‘You’ve had your fair share of that from me too, guv. I’ve saved your ass once or twice.’
There was an awkward silence between them, a moment of high tension as they stared each other out. In the days he was her guv’nor, he’d always been in her face – but equally he’d always supported her. They were as close as it was possible to be. Yet Kate knew she’d overstepped the line once too often. He could go either way. He could help her or feed her to the IPCC. What she said next would determine which one of those options it was going to be.
40
‘I wasn’t chasing him, guv. I swe
ar. I wasn’t intending to arrest him. He ran away because he was stupid. He called me that afternoon. I had reason to believe that he had vital information in relation to a triple murder. He blurted out his location and hung up. What else could I have done? He’s given me stuff before. Remember the Jackson case? His intel . . . the botched jewellery heist in 2008 when the owner was shot? His intel.’
Her former guv’nor’s expression hadn’t softened any.
Kate couldn’t maintain eye contact. A lump as big as Texas formed in her throat. Her precious career was as good as over. Resigned to take the consequences of her actions, she waited. She thought about apologizing and decided she’d be wasting her breath. Tears stung the back of her eyes. She was only just holding on. Then suddenly she lost her composure. She hadn’t been herself since Towner died. She’d been horrible to Hank, to Jo. Bright was the only thing standing between her position and a first-class ticket to the office of Professional Standards – or the dole queue.
‘I realize there’ll be an enquiry,’ she said.
‘Who said anything about an enquiry?’ Bright looked almost as upset as she felt. ‘It never happened. Neither did this conversation.’
She tried to thank him but couldn’t speak. She wanted to yell at him and hug him at the same time. He was offering forgiveness that in her heart she didn’t feel she deserved. She had great people round her and yet she pushed them away, time and again, when they reached out to give her a hand.
She was an emotional wreck.
The week’s events kept flashing through her head: John Allen wrapped round the wheels of a Mercedes van, his brother’s severed fingers, Bethany’s head caved in. The thumping sound as the car hit Towner, his hand in hers as he slipped away, Jo’s angry face, Gillian Garvey’s smirk, the look of disapproval on Bright’s face right now. His mouth was moving but she hadn’t heard a word.
‘Are you even listening to me?’ He sat forward, placed his elbows on his desk and linked his hands together to support his chin. For a moment he said nothing, showed no emotion whatsoever, then his eyes took in a photograph of his late wife before coming to rest on Kate. ‘Remember the night I made an arse of myself?’
He was referring to that night. It was before Stella died. She was horribly disabled but he was suffering too, struggling to cope with the demands of his job while caring for her at home. Late one night, the consequences of his refusal to allow her to end her days in hospital hit him like a brick when she asked him to put a stop to her pain permanently. At his request, Kate had gone round to help him over that traumatic event. In a moment of weakness, he’d asked her to spend the night with him.
Of course she remembered – how could she forget?
‘Is there a point to this, guv?’
They had agreed never to mention it again, another thing that never happened. Relieved that she’d keep her rank for a while longer, Kate’s detective mind was already focusing on the O’Kane sighting in Glasgow.
She checked her watch. ‘Hank’s waiting, may I go?’
Bright’s jaw clenched. ‘You’re a piece of work sometimes, you know that? I bet Townsend was terrified of you.’ He paused. In all the years they had worked together they had always had a love/hate relationship. Right at this moment, it was oscillating between the two. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and let out a long sigh. ‘My point is one you’ll take on board, if you have any sense. I was in a bad place then, Kate. You helped me out and I’d like to return the favour. With the benefit of hindsight, I can see that it was the lowest point in my life. I think this is yours—’
‘With all due respect, that’s bollocks, guv. I’m busy, that’s all.’
‘Sit down!’
She did as she was told – for once.
He cleared his throat. ‘You don’t make it easy for people. You’re the very best detective I know, but I could do without the aggro. I’m warning you. This is the very last chance you get. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, guv.’
‘When this case is over, take some leave. Whether you’re willing to accept it or not, you’ve hit rock bottom. To be perfectly honest, I think you’re unfit for duty. That opinion will stay in this office while I decide what to do with you. Anyone else would be off the case and handing in their warrant card. Now, get the hell out of my sight.’
Of all the things he could’ve said to her, ‘unfit for duty’ was the most hurtful. From the look on his face, he knew it too. Without another word, Kate walked out, closing the door quietly behind her. As she passed his office window, she was weeping.
41
Hank binned his cigarette when he saw her leave the building. Even at fifty metres away he could tell by her gait and the way her head was down that her meeting with Bright had been a difficult one. She was ashen when she arrived at the car. Not knowing how to handle the situation, he didn’t say much, just held out his hand.
‘Gimme your keys,’ he said. ‘I’m driving.’
‘Thanks.’ It was almost a whisper. ‘Get me out of here.’
Without argument, she handed her keys over and climbed into the passenger seat. Unheard of. Driving was one of the pleasures of her life. She was never happier than behind the wheel, except maybe on her motorcycle. Placing her mobile on the dash, she strapped herself in. Hank reversed out of their parking place, glancing at her as he used his wing mirror.
She’d filled up, was fighting to maintain self-control. This was worrying. He’d seen her upset before – frequently angry – but never like this. Their eyes met briefly and she looked away, telling him she’d explain on the way. Enlightenment wasn’t forthcoming. For miles and miles she sat motionless, staring through the windscreen at the road ahead, deep in her own thoughts, until he felt compelled to break the ice.
‘What’s the tale with Garvey?’ he asked.
Preoccupied with what had occurred in Bright’s office she seemed confused by the question.
‘Gillian,’ he pushed. ‘What was all that garbage in the press conference?’
‘Nothing important,’ Kate said. ‘She got a message on her bloody phone, same time as I did. She’s got her hooks into someone in Strathclyde force. Wonder what it cost her to receive that timely tip-off?’
‘She was right though.’ Hank used his indicator, accelerated to overtake a tractor and then pulled in.
‘About what?’
‘She was only doing her job.’
‘Yeah, well there are ways and ways. Shafting other people isn’t one of them, even if she is a fucking journo.’
‘Kate, calm down.’
She went quiet for a while and then swivelled in her seat to face him. When he looked at her she was visibly upset. ‘I dropped myself right in the shit, Hank. The guv’nor knows about Whitby.’
‘What? Tell me you’re joking!’ He took in the shake of her head. ‘You never admitted it?’
‘I lost it, Hank. I’m sorry.’
Oh fantastic. That was both their jobs down the pan. She should’ve kept her mouth shut.
What was she thinking?
Seeing the anxiety on his face, Kate told him not to worry. Bright wasn’t going to shop them or do anything about it. He’d said as much. Her reassurance wasn’t working, so she decided to elaborate. ‘The conversation didn’t happen,’ she said. ‘I’m on a final.’
Hank was incredulous. ‘So why the tears?’
She rubbed at her brow, unable to answer.
‘Kate, don’t do this. You’re worrying me.’
‘He said I was unfit for duty.’
Taking his left hand off the steering wheel, Hank patted her arm. He didn’t entirely disagree. She was like a ticking bomb. It wouldn’t take much to tip her over the edge. As her number two, he saw it as part of his job description to protect her from herself. He’d known exactly how she’d react from the moment the car bumper smashed into Towner’s legs and threw him up in the air on his final journey, even though she’d not actually seen the gruesom
e spectacle. By the time she had turned round, it was all over. The aftermath wasn’t pretty. The reason she was blaming herself was because she cared deeply about people. All people. She was a good person. More compassionate than anyone he knew – hard on the outside, soft as shite on the in. Right now, she needed rest. He could do with some himself.
‘Ever want to keep driving and never look back?’ she asked.
‘Sometimes,’ he admitted.
She sighed loudly, the weight of the world on her shoulders.
‘Why don’t you call Jo?’ he suggested.
‘Yeah right, like she’ll want to speak to me.’
‘She’s the one person who would,’ Hank said. ‘Apart from me, I mean.’
‘Later maybe.’
Her phone rang. Hank half-expected Jo’s number to show up on the car’s display. Wincing as he saw that it was Bright, he glanced at Kate, a question in his eyes: You wanna answer that? There was a split-second’s hesitation, a deep breath in, then a nod.
Hank pushed a button on the steering wheel to take the call.
Kate made a huge effort to sound upbeat.
‘What’s up, guv?’
‘Are you two OK?’ Bright asked.
‘We’re fine. Making good progress. There’s nowt on the roads, to be honest.’
‘Good, I want you here with some positive information, soon as you can. Let’s put this one to bed, Kate. Then you can take that time off we discussed.’
Hank stiffened. She hadn’t mentioned that. Their former guv’nor wasn’t a man to mince his words. He’d obviously kicked her in the solar plexus and it would take a while to recover from that. Hank had been there himself, more times than he cared to remember, mostly, though not exclusively, with the same man on the other end of the dressing-down – Bright could be a twat sometimes. Satisfied that Kate was fine, the Detective Chief Superintendent levelled his parting shot at him.
‘You owe me one, Hank,’ he said. ‘And I intend to collect.’
The dialling tone filled the car.
Hank said nothing. Although Bright was a demanding boss – not to mention a bully on occasions – he was fiercely protective of those he cared about. Hank thanked his lucky stars that it was him and not someone else who’d discovered their fateful trip south. The silence in the car was deafening. He imagined the monologue running through Kate’s head: the what-ifs, the snippets of conversation between the two of them as they fled Whitby, her row with the head of CID. The guilt Hank knew she was still feeling. That self-examination nonsense he could never understand. It was over – end of. What was to analyse?