The Essence of Evil

by The Essence of Evil (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’ll take your sarcasm as a no to my previous question. I understand you’ve recently returned to Force CID after an extended period of absence?’

  ‘Correct.’

  Baxter studied her for a few moments, as though he couldn’t bring himself to open up the subject matter. He said nothing more, just waited for Dani to finish what he’d tried to start.

  ‘You want to know if my brother attempting to murder me, and the subsequent brain damage that I suffered, for which I’ve been sidelined from my job for two years, had any bearing on my actions yesterday. Have you any idea how ludicrous that sounds?’

  ‘I’ll take that as another no,’ Baxter said. ‘Ok, well if there’s nothing more?’

  ‘There’s nothing.’

  ‘We’ll need a while to consider.’

  Dani huffed and got up from the chair. McNair escorted her outside as though Dani had no clue where her desk was located anymore.

  ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ McNair said to Dani before heading back into her office.

  Dani sat back in her seat and let out another long sigh. It was taking all of her strength to stop tears from flowing. She looked across the room. Everyone now had their heads down, even Easton and Jason. They all knew what was coming and no one was prepared to stand up for her.

  Not even Easton? Despite what he’d said to her yesterday about the accident not being her fault? Perhaps McNair had already put enough pressure on him to make sure he would turn an eye to the force throwing Dani under the bus.

  Bad choice of words, perhaps.

  It didn’t take long for Baxter and McNair to deliberate. McNair called Dani back in less than fifteen minutes later.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ Baxter said.

  ‘I’m fine standing,’ Dani said, folding her arms. Defiant to the end.

  ‘DI Stephens,’ Baxter began, ‘based on the information we have gathered so far, including your own responses to our questions, we believe there is sufficient evidence to require the conducting of a formal inquiry, and that it would be in the interests of all the parties to do so. Given the seriousness of the matter, that a young man has lost his life, and another man is in a critical condition in the hospital—’

  Dani winced as she recalled the scene; the occupants trapped in their cars. She was hugely relieved that they were all still alive, whoever they were.

  ‘—I have no choice but to refer this matter to the IOPC, who will determine the necessary investigative steps required.’

  IOPC. The Independent Office for Police Conduct. Dani could already sense what Baxter was about to say next.

  ‘I’m afraid, DI Stephens, that pending the results of that investigation, you are suspended from active duty. Is there anything you’d like to say at this stage?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘We’ll be in touch in due course with details of the formal process, once the IOPC has considered the steps they wish to take. You’ll continue to receive full pay and benefits until the outcome of proceedings is known, though I am obliged to inform you at this stage that it’s possible that matters could move beyond disciplinary action against you.’

  ‘Meaning what?’

  ‘I understand the IOPC has already received word from the deceased’s legal representatives that they are considering whether Dean Harland was unlawfully killed, and therefore whether there is sufficient evidence for a full public inquiry, and for civil or criminal action to be taken. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘Yeah. That you might not be happy with just throwing me off the force for doing my job. If it gets you the right slap on the back from the powers that be, you’ll be happy to see me in jail too.’

  Baxter shook his head. ‘DI Stephens, I do hope you’ll remain co-operative through this process. It will only hurt your prospects if you choose to do battle with us.’

  ‘Point clearly understood. Thank you for the warning.’

  ‘We’ll need your ID before you go. You are to refrain from any and all contact with regards to this matter with other members of the force during the investigation period. DCI McNair will show you out.’

  Dani gritted her teeth. ‘Understood.’

  She turned and put her hand on the door.

  ‘And Stephens?’ Baxter said. Dani gritted her teeth as she awaited the parting comment. ‘Please continue with your scheduled appointments with Dr Scholz in the meantime. What happened yesterday can’t have been easy on you.’

  Dani said nothing. Just opened the door and looked out across the team, and prepared herself for the walk of shame.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Dani was still shaking as she traipsed back across central Birmingham to her apartment, her head throbbing from pent-up rage, but also from immense remorse.

  Of course she understood the seriousness of the situation. A man had lost his life. Was that because of her actions? Well, yes, if she hadn’t chased him he would more than likely still be alive.

  Why had she decided to chase him like that? Why hadn’t she called for backup? It was true that there were many things she could have done differently in the situation. That still didn’t mean she didn’t feel aggrieved at the way the force had seemingly turned against her at the first opportunity. Had McNair ever wanted Dani back on the team at all?

  By the time she arrived home, Dani was all out of ideas as to where she went from here. What she did know was that she was hungry, thirsty and tired. Her only thought about what to do next was to go inside and eat and drink herself into delirium, to curl up into a little ball and lock herself away from the world like she had done for months. There was no doubt she’d come to find a certain safety and calm in solitude.

  Dani bought a sandwich, two packets of crisps, three chocolate bars, two bottles of fruit cider and two bottles of white wine from the corner shop, then made her way up the stairs to her apartment, wryly telling herself that she may as well burn a few calories first. It was barely midday but once inside she poured a bottle of cider into a pint glass half filled with ice and took a big gulp, then went and sat down in the lounge to finish off the food.

  It didn’t take her long. Not long after, she relaxed back into the sofa, in silence, staring out of the window at the sky, greying as a storm approached.

  ‘Where do we go from here, Dani?’ she said, then let out a mocking laugh. ‘Great, and now you’re talking to yourself again, you mad woman.’

  Front and centre in Dani’s mind was genuine sorrow and guilt over the death of Dean Harland, not to mention the other people caught up in the mess who would be scarred, both mentally and physically. Yet she also felt hurt and betrayed, and angry. Strangely, the one person she was feeling herself pushed closer to in that moment was someone who had hurt and betrayed her more than anyone else. She really didn’t know why, but after she’d finished her first bottle of cider she picked up the phone and called the prison.

  Of course there was no prospect of either seeing or speaking with Ben that day, but with an appointment to see her brother after the weekend, and little else to do for the rest of the day, Dani fixed herself another drink.

  Hours later she was still sitting and sipping in silence when the doorbell rang. She groaned, got up and headed to the hall. She looked on the intercom monitor and saw Jason. She thought about not answering, but really she was intrigued. He was like a boomerang.

  ‘What do you want?’ Dani asked, pressing the speaker button.

  He held up a hand gripping a bottle of vodka. Grey Goose at that.

  ‘Come on up,’ Dani said.

  * * *

  ‘It was a shitty thing to happen,’ Jason said.

  They were sitting on opposite sofas in the lounge, both holding onto a tumbler of neat vodka with ice. Their third.

  ‘You know what, I really don’t want to talk about it,’ Dani said. ‘I did what I thought was right.’

  Jason said nothing.

  ‘What’s going on with the case?’ Dani asked. ‘I’m guessing you’ve been put
on it instead of me now.’

  ‘Fletcher’s going to be off any day. McNair needed another DI.’

  ‘What about DCI Fairclough and the Organised Crime lot?’

  ‘To be honest, he’s not really too interested. He didn’t know of Reeve or Harland or Ethan Grant, said they must only have been small players. He’s doing what he can to look into people who may have known Reeve or Harland, but so far he’s not given us anything useful.’

  ‘So where’s the investigation headed?’

  Jason screwed his face, like he’d been asked a hugely inappropriate personal question.

  ‘Maybe we should drop the work talk. Take your mind off it.’

  ‘Whatever. But I want to know what’s going on still. It’s my case. There’s at least one murderer out there and it matters to me that we catch them.’

  Jason didn’t respond to that, and Dani decided to drop it. The truth was, for once she did feel better having him there. At least this time he wasn’t criticising her drinking, and it was surely better to have company for a change than talking to herself.

  * * *

  The day passed by in a blur, and even after darkness had arrived Dani and Jason remained sitting and chatting. With the vodka bottle nearly empty and blood alcohol levels soaring, both Dani and Jason had warmed up, the talk between them more natural and open once they’d decided to leave policing problems aside, and with no mention of Dani’s other problems.

  ‘Damn, look at the time,’ Jason said, glancing at his watch. ‘I really should be going.’

  ‘Are you sure? You can stay longer.’

  ‘My last train was ten minutes ago.’

  ‘There’s a taxi rank over the other side of the canal, towards Brindley Place,’ Dani said. ‘Or if you can’t make it that far, you can have the spare bed.’

  She was glad she’d managed to say the word ‘spare’, rather than ‘your’, even if he was the only person to have ever slept there.

  Jason thought for a few moments. ‘No, I think I’ve probably had plenty.’

  ‘Fair enough. Probably about time for bed then.’

  Dani caught the awkward look Jason gave her and she smiled.

  ‘I didn’t mean the same bed,’ she said. ‘The spare room is all yours, though, if you want.’

  ‘No, thanks, best to just get a taxi and get home. Busy day tomorrow.’

  Unlike Dani, who now had nothing to do. They didn’t say anything more and both wobbled to their feet then made their way to the front door. Jason slipped on his shoes.

  ‘I know I’m not a shrink,’ he said, ‘but I am a good listener. If you ever want to talk…’

  ‘I know, Jason.’

  ‘I know it’s not the best timing, but I’m glad we did this.’

  Dani sighed. This was what she’d wanted for a long time. Just to be able to start over, with no talk of their past life together. Why had it taken such a shitty turn of events at work for it to happen?

  ‘I’m glad we did it too,’ Dani said. ‘You’re always there for me when I need you.’

  ‘I’d do anything for you, Dani. You know that.’

  Jason looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. She was alert enough to know she was pissed, that the alcohol was clouding her better judgment, yet she didn’t break the eye contact.

  A short but awkward silence followed, and then Jason leaned forwards. Dani didn’t react or move at all as he planted a kiss onto her lips. He moved back to look into her eyes. Still she didn’t break eye contact. He came back for another attempt. He closed his eyes. She closed hers. Their lips touched.

  No. This wasn’t what she wanted. Not now. Not tonight. Not like this.

  ‘Jason, stop,’ Dani said, moving her lips away from his, but a moment later he was kissing her neck gently.

  ‘Jason, for fuck’s sake, I said stop!’ Dani yelled.

  She hauled her knee up and crashed it into Jason’s groin, then shoved him away as hard as she could. He shouted out in pain and stumbled back, tripping over his own legs and landing on the floor with a thud.

  ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ he shouted.

  ‘Me? What the hell is wrong with you? The one time I just wanted you to be here for me, Jason. And you try to kiss me!’

  ‘You kneed me in the balls!’

  Dani held a hand to her head, exasperated. ‘Jason please… I can’t do this.’

  He clambered to his feet, his hands cradling his groin. His face was lined with anger. He grabbed his coat.

  ‘I know you’re not the same person you used to be,’ he said, the anger in his voice clear, ‘and maybe you’ll never be her again, but it’s about time you opened your eyes, accepted it and just got on with your life.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.’

  ‘Sometimes I have to wonder, though, is it really the head injury that’s made you into… this?’

  Dani said nothing, just shook her head. Jason huffed, opened the door and stormed out.

  Slamming the door shut, Dani slid down the wall to the floor. Only then did the emotion of the day finally catch up with her. Tears cascaded down her face. She wondered if they’d ever stop.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Day 408

  I’ve been home for six months now. It feels as though my life is finally on the up again, ‘normality’ is slowly returning. The darkest days are behind me, though I know I still have a long way to go to full recovery. I have an assessment booked to regain my driving license in two weeks! I’m so excited, like I was when I first took my test when I was seventeen. I have my phone and laptop back. I’m even trusted to boil a kettle of water…

  Jason remains in the spare room, though I honestly don’t think he needs to be in my apartment anymore. I’ve already got my sights set on returning to work, maybe in the new year, just five months away. Above all, I feel confident that my old self is still there, and finally winning out.

  I’ve been trying to regain my fitness. I started out by running a couple of miles a day along the canals near my apartment. Within a few weeks I was running five miles a day. Two weeks ago I signed up for the London Marathon. I’ll be running for Limitless, a charity for people and families dealing with brain damage.

  I’ve just finished a twelve mile run, my longest yet and as I walk up the stairs to my apartment my legs are like jelly and my head is swirling with exhaustion. But I feel relaxed, and buoyed by my progress.

  I’m meeting Gemma for lunch in an hour. I haven’t seen her for over a month, and for once I’m looking forward to talking to her, to updating her on where I’m at, both physically and mentally. She’s become a great sounding board for me recently. I’ve never felt so close to her in fact. Jason, on the other hand… we just fight all the time. I’m told it’s a common reaction. That TBI survivors will often take out their frustrations on their spouses more than anyone else, then be happy and amenable with others, even strangers. Something to do with safe zones and security and helping the brain to recover by venting. It goes hand-in-hand therefore that some seventy-five percent of TBI survivors get divorced.

  But Jason and I aren’t even married.

  What startles me most is that I don’t even feel sadness or regret to know that our relationship is teetering so close to breakdown.

  I check my watch as I walk along the corridor. I’d only intended to run eight miles so I’m behind schedule. I have to rush to get out on time.

  When I’m ready not long after, I walk briskly through Brindley Place to the French bistro where I’ve agreed to meet Gemma. I see her standing outside the entrance, checking her phone. She looks up and smiles at me. I’m still sweating from my run, though I’ve showered and washed my hair. My heart is pounding in my chest. I’m exhausted and looking forward to some food and a tall, cold drink. Gemma puts her phone away. I see her get ready to embrace me.

  Then she freezes.

  I realise I’ve stopped walking too. A look of concern sweeps across Gemma’s face as she stares at
me.

  A strange noise rumbles in my ears.

  And then everything turns black…

  * * *

  It’s several hours later when I’m finally aware of what has happened. I’m in a hospital bed. Gemma and Jason are by my side. I’ve had a seizure. I’m told I pushed myself too far, that it was inevitable. It makes me angry to hear that so soon after the event.

  Gemma recounts what happened. How I stopped walking and made a strange gargling noise as my body stiffened then started to shudder out of control. I was frothing at the mouth like a crazed animal. She didn’t get to me in time to stop me plummeting to the ground. There’s a gash on the back of my head that’s been stitched. I bit my tongue too and it is badly swollen inside my mouth.

  Beside the embarrassment and anger at myself, my immediate thought as I lay there in the hospital bed is one of immense fear. That just when I thought I was on top, I’ve blown it. Perhaps I’ve just taken several steps back in my recovery.

  And banging my head? Can my brain take any more blows before it packs in altogether? Have I just lost another slice of Dani Stephens?

  Did I ever really get her back?

  I can hear Jason talking to me, but I’m not processing the words. Then the room falls deathly silent.

  My eyes fall on Jason, then Gemma. They share a look. They both half-smile, awkwardly. They look like they want to be pleased about something but don’t know if they should.

  What on earth could they have to be pleased about?

  I only realise what the issue is when my arm reflexively lifts up to wipe my face.

  To wipe away the tears that are falling.

  Tears.

  How long is it since I cried? Since the last time I felt this kind of emotion? In fact, the last time I even came close I tried my hardest to shut it away. This time I don’t. I let it come. I let it all out. I sob. I cry. Strangely it feels good to be sad, and the smiles on Jason’s and Gemma’s faces grow.