Elias broke away from his thoughts when he felt Claire’s hard gaze.
‘DI Fletcher told me you didn’t take to Thomas. Not that I can blame you, but I’ve heard you let him berate you. You let him get to you and you showed it.’
Elias’s eyes narrowed and his face flushed with anger. Stefan, he could go to hell. Reporting back to her over something insignificant. This is why he thought it best not to get close to work colleagues.
‘Why are you not bothering to speak to Thomas first, before ruling him out as a suspect? It’s good practice.’
Her eyes shot to his. ‘Is it good practice to question a superior officer?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘I’m the SIO on this case, Crest. Best you not forget it.’
‘Oh, it’s clear where I stand in all this.’
Her gaze was hard. She looked him up and down.
She let his outburst slide and said, ‘The real question you should be asking is, why bite the hand that feeds you?’
‘What?’
‘Daryl Thomas and Nola Grant. She brought in a lot of money for him, why would he kill her? From what I understand, Thomas has got himself a nice little set-up with those girls. He’s not going to murder his source of income, is he?’
Elias thought for a minute, knew it was the most logical argument, but countered her point all the same.
‘What if that’s what he wanted us to think? You know there are more Nola Grants and Rachel Larsons out there to pimp out to the next man willing to pay.’
‘You’ve met the guy, and you’re telling me you think he deserves that amount of credit? That he’s able to think it through himself, and actually murder one of his girls?’
Elias was silent.
‘You’ve clearly got a lot to learn, Crest, if that’s what you really think. I’ve dealt with idiots like Thomas before and whilst capable of many nasty things, murder is not one of them. That man in particular is a coward.’
‘I was just putting the question to you,’ he protested. Claire stood abruptly and Elias felt himself unconsciously take a step back.
‘Yes, I’m sure you were doing what you thought best.’
He was silent and looked down at the floor.
‘I’ll be sending an officer out to speak to Thomas, but it’s not a priority at the moment and we don’t have the manpower to have officers everywhere, what with the government’s budget cuts.’
She let the statement hang for a few moments. ‘Are we done?’
Elias nodded but kept his eyes trained on the floor as Stefan came through the door. ‘Danika’s on line two. Says it’s urgent.’ Claire nodded a thank you in his direction then stared at Elias.
Your time to leave.
Taking the hint, Elias scowled at Stefan before slamming the door behind him as he left. Stefan looked at Claire, confused, his brow furrowed.
‘Don’t ask, Fletch, just don’t ask,’ she said, sitting down again. She picked up the telephone receiver and clasped it to her ear. She pressed the button next to the flashing light on the cradle and waited.
CHAPTER 15
Stefan’s eyes grew wide when he saw Claire’s reaction to the voice at the other end of the phone. The receiver still stuck to her ear even after the line was dead.
‘Is everything OK?’ he said, pulling the phone from her hand.
It took her a moment to register his words. She looked up at him, eyes serious. ‘Nola was pregnant.’
He hesitated. ‘Jesus… How far gone was she? She didn’t look remotely pregnant, you saw her stomach.’
‘Not far from twelve weeks, Danika thinks.’ She rubbed her fingers hard across her brow. ‘This just makes her murder even more poignant. We’re going to be under even more pressure.’
Stefan sat down in front of her, feeling numb. He thought back to when Melissa had been pregnant with Phoenix and how vulnerable she’d been. ‘Press will have a field day.’
Claire nodded. ‘Can you imagine the headlines? It’s bad enough trying to deal with the death of a young girl. When you add an unborn life into the equation people will be gunning for this person’s blood. It makes Nola’s death even more tragic. This could turn into a media circus.’
Stefan ran his hands through his hair as he arched his neck back, sighing.
‘I’ve seen that look before,’ Claire said. ‘If you’ve got an idea running through that head of yours, you’d better share it with me.’
‘You want to know what I’d do?’ he clarified.
She remained silent.
He looked down at his hands, as if contemplating how to phrase his words.
‘There’re two ways of looking at it. We could tell the media, which may help bring in the killer more quickly, what with people’s emotions running high–’
‘Which will also bring the crazies out the woodwork,’ she said, cutting him off. ‘Hoax callers, people wanting their five minutes of fame. I can do without that.’ She swung her chair around so she could look out the window.
‘Yeah, I know it could be counterproductive – so the other option is, we simply don’t say anything.’
She gave him a sideways glance and chewed on her bottom lip.
‘Either way, I think you should swallow your pride and see Donahue.’
CHAPTER 16
Detective Superintendent Clifton Donahue was well into his fifties, and although a fairly ostentatious figure, he was also as fair as he was firm. Well respected in the force, Donahue was not a man you would want to fall out with, but equally was a valued friend if you worked hard and earned your position, proving to him you always put your heart and soul into each case.
Claire and Donahue had a mutual understanding. Each was stubborn with a will of iron. Each had different ideas and techniques that sometimes worked together but often clashed.
New and old.
A bone of contention for some.
They both knew it was pointless to go against the other unless absolutely necessary but they also had a deep and mutual respect for each other, both as colleagues and on a personal level.
Claire took a seat when he offered her a chair in his office. He sat back and eyed her with interest. Donahue was a tall man, and his legs were now stretched out in front of him under his desk, the tips of his shoes nearly reaching Claire’s.
He was average in build, except for his belly, which showed his love for fine wine and dining. His large nose was slightly red and crows’ feet were set deep either side of his brown eyes. The lines around his mouth were a product of years of smoking, although he’d given up some ten years ago. He still retained his smoker’s cough, which served as a constant reminder to himself never to fall back into bad habits whenever he was tempted by a pack of B&H.
His hair was thinning on top but despite this he still had a good thatch of silver-grey hair, turning white at the temples. His face still had something about it that made Claire feel like she was in good company.
He leaned forward and clasped his big hands together, his fingers on his right hand turning his gold wedding band around his left index finger, unconsciously. Claire noticed he did this whenever he was anxious.
‘What can I do for you, Claire? How’s DS Crest settling in so far?’
She felt her stomach roll when he mentioned Elias.
‘My team’s working hard on the Grant murder, but we’ve hit a snag, and I need to run something by you first, see what you think about it.’
Donahue let out a low chuckle, which turned into a coarse smoker’s cough, and he hacked into his clenched fist. ‘I’m honoured you want my approval,’ he said, smiling. ‘What’s it going to cost me?’
‘Don’t be like that, Sir, you’ve not heard what I have to say yet.’
‘If it’s something you think you need to see me about first, I expect to be nervous.’
Claire explained the details compiled on the case so far and when she reached Nola’s pregnancy, he squirmed. ‘I see,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘There are some sick bastards out th
ere.’ His voice sounded gruff and he coughed hard into his hand again.
‘OK, this is what I think,’ he said, swallowing warm water from the glass on his desk. ‘We keep this to ourselves, for the time being. Make sure your team is briefed and know not to talk to anyone outside the investigation about it.’
His eyes then turned more serious.
‘You may want to think about this Daryl Thomas, Grant’s pimp. Your gut feeling that he isn’t involved can’t be relied on as gospel, Claire, you know that.’
He lowered his eyes, avoiding her gaze, and she knew something was wrong.
‘We’ve done a door-to-door around the neighbourhood, Cliff. We’ve got a witness placing Nola not far from the town centre area. There’s no description of a man loitering on Nola’s patch before she disappeared that matches Thomas. Besides, he has more sense than to murder one of his girls.’
‘But where was he? Does he have an alibi?’
Claire looked at him, exasperated.
‘I’m merely throwing the question out there, Claire,’ he added. ‘DS Crest is right. We can’t rule him out just yet, although I agree with what you’re saying.’
Claire’s head shot up, her face glowing crimson.
‘Crest?’ she said, practically spitting his name. Donahue went to speak, but nodded a response instead, his fingers working overtime on his wedding band.
‘Crest was in here? He’s been to see you?’ She leaned forward across his desk. ‘Today?’
‘Don’t get angry, it’s nothing against you.’
‘I don’t bloody believe this. I just spoke with him before I came up here myself.’
‘Yes, I know. You just missed each other,’ he said with some trepidation.
‘The devious little bastard. After what I did for…’ She stopped herself, avoiding his eyes.
Donahue frowned at her words.
‘After you did what?’ he said. ‘Finish what you were going to say.’
Claire got to her feet, and her knuckles turned white as she leaned heavily on Donahue’s desk. ‘All I meant was he’s gone over my head. I’m not having it.’
‘Don’t you dare pull rank with me.’
His tone silenced her and she knew not to push her luck. He raised his hand, his finger now pointing at her square in the face. ‘You forget, I don’t care about your personal differences with anyone, providing it doesn’t impair your judgment or compromise a case. We do this by the book.’
‘I’m planning to speak with Thomas but my instinct is telling me it’s a waste of time.’
‘You’ve been wrong before, remember?’
As much as it needed to be said, he felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the hurt in her face. She knew instantly what he was referring to.
The murdered priest investigation the previous year.
It’d been a setback for her to say the least, although it hadn’t completely been her fault, but Donahue felt it necessary to bring it up every so often if she needed to hear it. If he needed to quell her arrogance.
He lowered his hand, sinking back against his chair, but eyed her sternly. He wasn’t the type of person to show too much compassion.
‘I know you never went to all those meetings you were told to attend. You’ve got me to thank that you escaped any internal investigation by the skin of your teeth.’
Claire’s eyes rose to meet his. She swallowed hard.
‘Look, Claire, back down off your hunches, get out of my office and get someone on Daryl Thomas.’
It took Claire every effort to swallow her anger. Her lips pursed together, then stretched in a tight line across her face. She looked down at the table, took a deep breath, and returned her eyes to his.
‘Yes, Sir.’
He stole a few moments to look at her, grimaced at her thinner frame, not the Claire he’d known before. Then he waved his hand, silently dismissing her. As she pulled at the door handle to leave he sat forward in his seat.
‘And Winters?’
He saw her body stiffen, but she didn’t turn around to face him. Instead her eyes remained fixed on the door, her fingers gripping the door handle. ‘You know my office is always open…’ He couldn’t finish the sentence, but he knew she understood.
At least he hoped she did.
CHAPTER 17
‘It’s a shit-storm in a teacup, Claire. Don’t show him you’re easily wound up.’ Claire heard Stefan’s words, but was barely interested.
‘Who the fuck does he think is? I feel like I’m back at school!’
Stefan winced as she roared the last part, making people look up from their workstations, peering through the glass partition wall of her office.
‘Calm down.’
‘I’ll give him something to complain to Cliff about, the cocky twat.’
Stefan watched her pace her office, feet scuffing the carpet, fury building inside her. When he saw Elias walk into the incident room, he tried to distract her.
‘So, where are you taking your mother for dinner tonight?’ She shot him a hard stare but didn’t answer him, and sat back down instead. He raised his arms dismissively in the air. ‘OK, I’m going to leave you to it, let you ride out the storm on your own.’
He caught her staring out across the office.
Her eyes landed on Elias.
She slowly stood up.
Stefan swore under his breath when she pushed past him and strode out of her office. He guessed Elias’s heart skipped a beat when he saw Claire striding up in front of his desk and glaring down at him.
He stiffened in his seat and rested his interlocked hands over his stomach.
‘What can I do for you, Guv?’ Elias’s voice sounded normal but inside his mind was working overtime, preparing to defend himself if she’d come to dish out a verbal onslaught.
‘Daryl Thomas,’ she said.
‘What about him?’
‘Pay him a visit.’
‘You’re serious? Why the sudden change?’ He was pushing her and she knew it. She felt the anger boiling just under her cool exterior. She kept it suppressed, aware that all eyes were on them.
She leaned in closer, voice low. ‘Don’t get clever. You wanted Thomas, now I’m handing him over to you. I’d hate to be proven incompetent if he has a motive and no alibi on the night Nola was last seen.’ She paused. ‘Take DC Harper with you tomorrow.’
Elias looked away, lowering his face and smiling inwardly. She watched his face, dissecting him with her eyes.
‘Yes, Guv.’
She gave a sharp nod, turned to leave, then came back full circle. He looked up expectantly as she leaned across his desk.
‘And, Crest,’ she said, almost whispering in his ear. ‘The next time you go over my head…’
He looked into her eyes.
She deliberately let the sentence hang in mid-air, unfinished. His face grew dark, but he nodded his head once. She was practically pissing all over him, marking her territory. Strategically placing herself higher than him, leaning over his desk, invading his personal space.
I’m bigger than you. Don’t you forget it.
He knew it then.
He knew the battle lines had just been drawn.
CHAPTER 18
Iris eyed the waiter suspiciously as he took her order, repeating it back to her in a thick Italian accent. After he’d brought her the wine Claire had persuaded her to try, she watched him head off towards the kitchen. She leaned in closer to her daughter.
‘Don’t suppose he’s legal?’ she whispered. Claire narrowed her eyes and buried her face in the menu.
‘Why, because he’s Italian? This is an Italian restaurant, Mum.’
‘Even more reason to do a spot check or something.’
Claire snapped the menu shut and stared at her. She would never get used to her mother’s bigotry or narrow-mindedness. It was something Iris had inherited from her own mother. Claire’s grandmother had been a force to be reckoned with, and had determined the main characteristics of the
women that were to follow down the family bloodline. Claire was many things, but there was not a hint of racism in her body.
‘You know, Mother, you’re not exactly the pinnacle of “Englishness”, if there is such a thing.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Whatever has got into you this evening?’
Claire ran her hand through her hair, twisted strands around her fingers. ‘I’m sorry. Bad day.’
Iris scowled at her, and they sat in an awkward silence until their dinner had been served. The waiter topped up Iris’s wine glass, and grinned at her. Claire smiled inwardly. Watching her mother’s face was priceless. The waiter left them alone, and Iris leaned in closer. She watched Claire picking at her pasta dish.
‘You know, you should have had pizza.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s got more fat in it and you’ve lost far too much weight since I saw you last.’ Claire pulled a face. ‘You can look at me like that all you want, it’s true. You’re looking gaunt. Look at you – picking at the food, rather than eating it.’
Claire shoved a huge forkful of pasta in her mouth, cheeks bulging as if to prove a point.
Iris tutted, shaking her head.
When Claire had finished her mouthful she said, ‘I’ve got too much on my mind right now to worry about what I’m eating. So, please, just drop it.’
Iris frowned, creating deep furrows in her brow. ‘You going to tell me about it or not?’
‘You’ll just tell me I’m being stupid.’
‘Probably, but I’ll listen nonetheless.’
After a brief pause, she reached out and placed her palm on Claire’s hand, forcing her to make eye contact. ‘I know I would never win mother of the year, but I am here to listen.’ It melted Claire’s exterior a little and her face softened.
‘DSI Donahue gave me a dressing-down today. It’s nothing, really.’
Iris’s eyes widened and she spooned a mouthful of spaghetti into her mouth. ‘He must have had his reasons. That’s not like him. What did you do?’
The Principle of Evil: A Fast-Paced Serial Killer Thriller (DCI Claire Winters, Book 2) Page 9