The Essence of Evil

by The Essence of Evil (retail) (epub)

  ‘What is it?’ Grant asked as he moved over to the bedside drawer for some clean boxers.

  Mary turned to him, a perplexed look on her face.

  ‘Did you see Julie yesterday?’

  ‘Julie Francis? No. Why would I have seen her?’ Grant asked, realising belatedly that he sounded defensive.

  Mary tutted. ‘I didn’t mean like that, Steven. If I thought you were screwing our neighbour’s wife I’d have chopped your balls off already.’

  ‘Just as well it never crossed my mind then.’

  ‘Ha, yeah. But seriously, I’ve not seen her at all since they had that bust-up. When she stormed off in his car.’

  Grant went over to the window and looked out too. There was definitely no sign of Francis’s prized Range Rover on the drive, and come to think of it, he hadn’t seen it yesterday morning when he went to work, or when he came home in the afternoon. Mary moved away from the window to fetch her dressing gown.

  ‘Maybe he’s got a job after all,’ Grant said. ‘And he’s already gone out.’

  ‘No. He’s in. I saw him walk past the window a few moments ago.’

  Grant rolled his eyes at that. Was Francis ever more than a metre away from a window? Though he and Mary were both snooping right at that moment too, so who was he to judge really?

  When had he and Mary become such nosy sods anyway?

  ‘Maybe she left him,’ Grant said.

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  ‘Have you not got her number? Send her a text.’

  ‘I did. After that fight. No answer.’

  That did sound odd, Grant had to admit.

  ‘Well, if you’re that interested then just go over and ask if she’s in. Say you want to get your nails painted again.’

  ‘Yeah, I think I might. It just seems strange that she’s disappeared like that.’

  ‘Hello, what’s this?’ Grant said when a Ford Mondeo slowed to a stop outside their front gates.

  ‘What?’ Mary said, coming back to Grant’s side.

  A man and a woman stepped from the car. Both were smartly dressed. The woman was short and the unmistakable bump under her jacket showed she was expecting.

  ‘Police,’ Mary said.

  Exactly what Grant had thought too. Mary looked as despondent as he felt at the prospect of yet another visit from plod. The two officers opened the front gate and walked up the gravel driveway. Grant’s focus moved from the police and back over to Ed Francis’s house. As if on cue – well, Francis wouldn’t miss this, would he? – the outline of a figure appeared at one of Francis’s downstairs windows, a second before the doorbell rang.

  Grant looked at his watch. He really didn’t need this. He threw on some suit trousers and pulled a shirt from a hanger in the wardrobe.

  ‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ Mary said, searching for something to wear.

  Grant nodded and walked out of the room. He knocked on Annie’s door as he went across the landing.

  ‘I’m leaving in five minutes if you need a lift,’ he called out to no response.

  He did up the buttons of his shirt as he headed down the stairs, then quickly tucked the shirt in before unlocking and opening the front door.

  ‘Mr Grant?’ the lady said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m DI Fletcher; this is DC Constable.’

  ‘Detective Constable Constable?’ Grant said, not sure he’d heard that right, and trying his best to hold back any childish reaction.

  ‘Yes,’ the young man said, evidently aware of the funny side, but not in the least amused by it.

  ‘Is it ok if we come in?’ Fletcher said.

  ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘It’s about your son, Ethan.’

  Grant stepped to the side and ushered Fletcher and Constable through. Mary, now dressed, was coming down the stairs by the time the officers were both inside, the door shut behind them.

  ‘What on earth now?’ Mary said. ‘This is the third time this week you lot have been here. And different officers every time. Do you not speak to each other?’

  ‘Sorry. Mrs Grant, is it?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’ Mary said. Her tone was sharp, and Grant was a little surprised by that. She came up to his side. ‘So?’

  Grant checked his watch again. He thought about offering the police a seat, but didn’t. He’d rather they just got on with the reason they were there and then left.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Grant, we shouldn’t need to take much of your time,’ Fletcher said, reading the signs. ‘But we need to ask you about Ethan.’

  ‘Your colleagues did that yesterday.’

  ‘I’m afraid something’s happened since then.’

  Mary rolled her eyes but Grant was feeling nervous all of a sudden.

  ‘Well go on then,’ Mary said. ‘Ask away.’

  ‘Have you been in contact with your son in the past twenty-four hours?’

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘There was an incident yesterday,’ Fletcher said.

  Grant felt himself tense up and he gave Mary a look. She obviously wasn’t feeling it.

  ‘You gave a colleague of ours an address for your son, in Handsworth,’ Fletcher said. ‘When police attended the address, Constable here and another officer were attacked.’

  ‘By Ethan?’

  ‘It’s not clear yet. But not long after that, two detectives gave chase after a potential suspect and… I’m sorry to say that the young man in question lost his life. A road accident.’

  Grant put his hand to his mouth. ‘Ethan…’

  ‘No. It wasn’t Ethan,’ Fletcher confirmed.

  Grant heaved a sigh of relief and he heard Mary let out a gasp, though for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to look at her at that moment.

  ‘The dead man has been identified by his fingerprints as Dean Harland. Did you know him?’

  ‘No,’ Grant said.

  ‘No,’ echoed Mary. ‘Should we?’

  ‘We’re not on good terms with Ethan,’ Grant explained.

  ‘I heard that,’ Fletcher said. ‘But we really do need to speak to Ethan urgently about what happened yesterday. And about the deaths of the two people that my colleague, DI Stephens, was here to talk about yesterday.’

  ‘We already know that,’ Mary said. ‘Please, we’ll let you know as soon as we hear from him. If we hear from him.’

  ‘And you have no idea where he is now?’

  ‘We would already have told you if we did,’ Mary said, turning to face Grant. He thought she looked slightly flustered. ‘Honey, don’t you need to go?’

  ‘Yes, I really do. Sorry, officers.’

  Fletcher looked at Constable as though questioning whether or not they were done. The slight shrug he gave suggested he was all out of ideas.

  ‘Sorry to have disturbed you so early,’ Fletcher said. ‘I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon.’

  ‘You’ll be in touch?’ Mary said. ‘Exactly who is in charge of this mess?’

  ‘I am now, Mrs Grant,’ Fletcher said, handing over a card. ‘You can deal with me from here on in.’

  ‘Very well,’ Mary said.

  Grant showed the officers out and then stood there, his back up against the wood frame while he gathered his thoughts. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt shaken.

  ‘For a moment… I thought—’

  ‘Don’t say it,’ Mary said, coming over to him and putting a finger up to his lips. She nestled her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

  ‘Mum. Dad? Is everything ok?’

  Mary pulled herself away from Grant and they both turned to Annie, who was halfway down the stairs.

  ‘Yes, sweetie, everything’s fine,’ Mary said.

  Grant didn’t say anything to that. There were only so many secrets and lies he could take.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Perhaps the one positive for Dani when she awoke the next morning was that at least she didn’t have a stinking hangover. Still, a quick raid of her painkiller
stash was needed before she could even think about the day ahead. She showered and dressed and then made her way outside for what she was sure was going to be a shitty day. Yesterday – the afternoon at least – had been all about doing her public duty as an officer at a horrific road accident. Today, though, she was sure the ramifications of what had occurred in Handsworth would begin to bite.

  Before heading off, Dani walked along the street to her car, having spotted it from the window of her apartment. She had no idea who had left it there or at what time, but had found the keys in her letterbox on the ground floor. She put the car into the apartment block’s underground car park and then made her way back outside and across the city on foot to HQ.

  Inside, the office was busy with people, but quiet on the chatter front. Quite the opposite to the previous day. Dani knew that meant McNair was in. She spotted Jason at his desk, busily typing away. He didn’t look up at Dani. Was he avoiding her after their bust-up – their most recent one of many – or had he not seen her?

  Easton was at his desk too. He gave Dani an awkward look and got to his feet.

  ‘Boss?’ he said. ‘Are you ok?’

  ‘I’m fine, for god’s sake. Can I not even sit down without being hassled?’

  Easton took his seat again, looked back to his computer, his cheeks flushing.

  Dani heard McNair’s office door open. She slumped. She knew even before McNair spoke who she was after.

  ‘DI Stephens, in here please.’

  From across the room, Jason gave her a sheepish look, almost as though he were apologising for what was to come. Dani headed to McNair’s office. When she was in the doorway she realised the DCI wasn’t alone inside. A silver-haired man was sitting behind the desk.

  McNair closed the door behind them and went and stood by the man.

  ‘DI Stephens,’ the man said. ‘I’m Chief Superintendent Eric Baxter.’

  Dani knew the name, but they’d never met. Baxter had been transferred in from another force a few months before. This was quite a way to be introduced to her new big boss.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ Baxter said.

  He had a pile of papers on the desk which he shuffled about a bit as though he were building up to what he wanted to say.

  ‘I understand you’re probably feeling quite bruised by what happened yesterday?’

  ‘Bruised? You could say that, sir. I saw a man being wiped out by an articulated lorry. It’s not, thankfully, an everyday occurrence.’

  ‘No, it certainly is not. I’d like to talk to you about the events, though, if I may?’

  ‘On what basis?’ Dani asked, looking over at McNair who looked down to the big cheese for the answer.

  ‘How do you mean?’ Baxter said.

  ‘Is this a formal disciplinary meeting?’

  ‘Do you think it should be? Do you think you’ve done something wrong?’

  ‘What? No!’

  ‘Then I’m not sure why you said that. This is merely a fact-finding exercise. Though you have to appreciate that this is a very serious incident. A young man lost his life yesterday.’

  ‘If I may, sir, can I ask who the man was? Do we know yet?’

  Baxter looked to McNair who gave a slight nod and Dani thought it odd that the Chief Super was looking to her for the answer to the question.

  ‘From a fingerprint ID, we believe the victim was Dean Harland,’ McNair said. ‘We don’t know too much about him at present. His parents live in Lancashire. They’ve been informed of his death.’

  Dani took the information in but didn’t react. She didn’t know Harland, the name hadn’t been on her radar at all. She’d thought perhaps the man they’d chased was Ethan Grant, the same man Easton had been trying to speak with in the first place. But perhaps Ethan was, in fact, the man who originally attacked Easton?

  Whatever the explanation, Dani knew there was a story behind those two, and Jimmy Colton too, and that story may or may not link to the murders of Paul Reeve and Natalya.

  ‘Ok. So how can I help?’ Dani said.

  ‘Can you please tell me why you decided to visit the address on Wood Road in Handsworth yesterday.’

  ‘I’ll have to check timings, if that’s important, but I received a call on my mobile phone from DI Barnes advising me that DS Easton had been attacked there. I wasn’t given details of the attack at that time.’

  ‘And why was that relevant to you?’

  ‘Because I was the one who sent DS Easton to the address.’

  ‘Why did you send DS Easton to that address?’

  ‘We were pursuing enquiries related to the murders of Paul Reeve and a young woman we know only as Natalya. We were given that as an address for Ethan Grant who was believed to be an acquaintance of Reeve.’

  ‘But you didn’t go with DS Easton?’

  ‘No. Is that a problem? He’s a sergeant, he’s more than capable of carrying out routine enquiries.’

  Baxter paused for a moment and Dani sensed he wasn’t impressed with her tone of voice.

  ‘Ethan Grant was not a suspect in your case?’ he asked.

  ‘He was, and is, a person of interest, but not a formal suspect at this stage.’

  ‘And what happened when Easton arrived at the address?’

  ‘I understand Easton was knocked to the ground when he went to speak to the occupants of the flat. But I’m presuming you’ll be speaking to him in more detail as to the circumstances of that? I wasn’t there.’

  Baxter nodded, not giving anything away.

  ‘And what happened when you arrived?’ he asked.

  ‘I established that whoever had attacked Easton had gone, and that the cordon and heavy police presence on the street was unnecessary. I asked for Easton and Constable—’

  ‘Constable?’

  ‘DC Constable. That’s his name, sir.’

  Baxter looked unsure at that but didn’t say anything.

  ‘I asked for Easton to get Constable to clear the cordon. Meanwhile I did a brief search of the flat.’

  ‘A brief search?’

  ‘I’d already been told by Easton that nothing of interest had been found. I simply wanted to take a quick look to see if my impression was consistent with what he had told me.’

  ‘And was it?’

  ‘It appeared so, yes. As I was exiting the flat I noticed that most pedestrians had already moved away but one man who’d remained caught my interest.’

  ‘Dean Harland?’

  ‘It appears so.’

  ‘How did he catch your interest?’

  ‘He was just…’ Dani searched for the words. She glanced from Baxter to McNair and back again. She sank into her seat. She could tell that whatever she said wasn’t going to be good enough for these two.

  ‘He was just, what, DI Stephens?’

  ‘He was loitering.’

  ‘Loitering? Is that a crime now?’

  ‘Of course not. But I am a detective. He took my interest. He had a hoodie covering his face. He looked out of place, like he was more than just a curious passer-by. It was a gut instinct.’

  ‘And what happened next?’

  ‘I simply wanted to understand who he was. I’d say it was perfectly reasonable to assume he was connected to the flat somehow, that maybe he knew the tenant or that he was the tenant.’

  ‘So how exactly did this result in a foot chase?’

  ‘Easton and I, we just crossed the road, we didn't… we didn’t do anything. As soon as he saw us moving towards him he ran.’

  ‘Why did you give chase?’

  ‘Because he ran! Why would he run? Unless he had something to hide.’

  ‘Quite an assumption, given that you didn’t know who he was.’

  ‘Would you not have made that same assumption?’

  ‘That’s not for me to say.’

  ‘No, you just get to pick apart other people’s actions after the event.’

  ‘DI Stephens, that tone is not going to help matters. We are not trying to tri
p you up here. We simply need to establish the course of events.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘You were in plain clothes, correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘At any point did you shout to Mr Harland to inform him that you were police officers?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is there a reason why not?’

  ‘In the moment it never crossed my mind. I know it should have. Yes, we were in plain clothes but Harland had been watching the scene. He must have known we were officers.’

  ‘Another assumption on your part, then?’

  ‘Yes, another damn assumption!’

  Baxter paused and looked to McNair, as though questioning Dani’s sharpness. When he returned his focus to her, Dani held his glare.

  ‘Did you call for backup?’ he asked.

  ‘No. I was more intent on catching him.’

  ‘And you didn’t request Easton to call?’

  ‘No.’

  Dani let out a long sigh and the conversation paused. She could see Baxter was mulling over something. When he came back with the next question it was simply more of the same, and the back and forth carried on in that way for another ten minutes, as Dani painstakingly talked through the events leading up to Harland’s death, and her actions in the aftermath.

  Her tone with Baxter remained sharp and defensive, though beneath the surface she felt sorrow and guilt bubbling away over the fact that a man had lost his life. She wouldn’t let it out now.

  When Dani was done with her explanation, McNair leaned over and whispered something in Baxter’s ear. He nodded, then turned back to Dani.

  ‘DI Stephens, we’re very appreciative of your time this morning. Do you have anything else you’d like to tell us before we consider next steps?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Any mitigating circumstances or other issues that you think are relevant to this discussion, and that you’d like us to be aware of and to consider.’

  ‘Yeah, ok. How about that I wasn’t driving that damn truck? How about that I didn’t force Harland to run away from us, nor did I suggest or encourage or otherwise force him to run into the middle of a bloody dual carriageway? How—’