by Cohen, Tammy
‘So, Lucy Cromarty, how about we try it again.’
An hour and a half later, she was heading back to her desk feeling hollowed out. After the printout arrived, Lucy had clammed up entirely, answering ‘no comment’ to all Leanne’s questions. She would have to talk to Desmond about the immunity issue. Not an avenue the DCI would be too happy about, but an instinct told her it might be worth it. Lucy Cromarty definitely knew something she wasn’t sharing.
Leanne’s heart sank when she saw someone had left today’s Chronicle on her desk folded to one of the inside pages. She swallowed painfully and tried to ignore the hollow pit that had opened up in her stomach. What now? When she got close enough to read the print, she saw the words she had been dreading: KENWOOD KILLER INVESTIGATION: NEW EVIDENCE MEANS POLICE ARE NOW FOCUSING THEIR SEARCH OVERSEAS.
She put her elbows on the desk and rested her head in her hands and closed her eyes. Eventually she became aware of someone standing next to her and glanced up to see Pete.
‘Want to talk?’
She shook her head.
‘Surely you should be pleased. I mean, the latest info in the Chronicle’s all wrong, isn’t it? That lets you off the hook.’
He was trying to cheer her up and Leanne had a flashback to how it had been when they lived together and he’d try to make it up to her for something or other – failing to show up for dinner when he’d promised to be back in time, missing her hospital appointments.
‘I’m going home.’ She stood up so abruptly her chair, weighted down by her bag and jacket, toppled over behind her.
Pete bent to pick it up.
‘I’ll take you. I’m heading over your way.’
‘No.’
It came out louder than she’d expected, and Ruby shot her a questioning glance as she gathered up her stuff and made a hasty exit.
Letting herself in through the front door of her flat she was greeted by the drawling baritone of Johnny Cash. She could hear Will crooning along, and Leanne felt a pain somewhere to the left of her breastbone.
‘Hello, honey,’ he called at the sound of the door slamming behind her. ‘I’m in the kitchen.’
There was a scent of spices wafting through the hall. Will loved cooking curries and stir-fries. She thought she could smell coconut there as well.
Leanne made her way slowly along the narrow hallway, her steps growing heavier until on the threshold of the kitchen she could hardly raise one foot in front of the other.
‘There she is. There’s Mummy.’
Will was holding Leanne’s cat, Norm, in his arms and moving its paw to make it look like Norm was waving.
Clearly Leanne’s expression wasn’t what Will was expecting because he put the cat down and Norm stalked across the kitchen and disappeared through the catflap.
‘What’s up, sweetheart? Crap day at the office? Come here.’
Will crossed to Leanne and wrapped his arms around her. She stood rigid, hands glued to her sides.
Sensing her strange mood, Will drew back, keeping his hands on her shoulders.
‘What?’ he asked, his brown eyes serious for once. ‘Talk to me. What’s up?’
‘There was another story in the Chronicle today. About the investigation.’
Will’s face softened.
‘Ignore it, darling. You know you haven’t done anything wrong. They’re just trying to find someone to blame for the fact they still don’t have a clue who is going around killing all these poor kids.’
‘It’s completely wrong.’
‘Well, obviously it’s wrong. They should never have …’
‘No, I mean the newspaper story. This one is completely wrong.’
‘What do you mean? I don’t—’
‘I mean, the whole thing about the police looking abroad was total bullshit that I made up when I called you yesterday morning. It was a test, Will, and you failed. How could you do that to me?’
For a split second, Will’s face remained frozen in an expression of total incomprehension, and then it crumpled in on itself, flushing wine-red.
‘Oh God, Leanne, I’m sorry.’
He moved towards her again but she stepped backwards, so he stood awkwardly, his hands still semi-outstretched.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It started as a stupid mistake. Something slipped out while I was on the phone to one of my contacts on the Chronicle. And then he kept asking me.’
‘So why didn’t you just say you didn’t know anything?’
‘Because I’m an idiot, because I liked feeling useful for once, because he hinted there’d be a job for me on the Chronicle, because I wanted to make you proud. I wanted to feel worthy of you.’
‘You almost cost me my job!’
‘No, love, I would never have let it get that far. You have to believe me.’
Leanne shook her head. ‘I don’t believe this. I really thought you loved me.’
‘I do. More than anything. That’s why I did it. I just wanted to feel like I was going somewhere. National papers – you know I’ve always dreamed of it. I wanted to be an alpha male for once. Like him.’
‘Who?’
‘Pete, of course. Who else?’
‘Are you kidding me?’
Leanne couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry. In a way it felt good to have a focus for all the emotions that had been building up over the past few days and weeks, ever since Poppy Glover’s murder. She could see Will felt terrible. Guilt and remorse were written all over his face.
‘How do you think it is for me being in his shadow the whole time? I know if he hadn’t screwed up by sleeping with someone else, you two would still be together. How am I supposed to feel about that? I know you’ve been seeing him at work the last few weeks and it kills me.’
‘Right, so you thought you’d leak confidential information you got from me to a national newspaper, knowing it could ruin my career, just so you could prove something to my ex. Smart, Will. Very smart.’
‘Not to prove it to him. I don’t give a shit about him. To prove it to you. To prove myself to you.’
Will’s face was always boyish, but now he looked like a child caught out in a misdemeanour and protesting that it wasn’t his fault. For a moment she softened towards him. He was still so naive. She knew he loved her and she supposed she could see how he might convince himself he was acting for the greater good, but really, what did he think was going to happen when she found out?
‘Leanne, sweetheart, I’m so, so, so sorry.’ Will reached out his hands so he was gripping the tops of Leanne’s arms. ‘I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Just give me a chance. OK?’
There was a film of water over Will’s eyes so the brown irises looked like they were fraying softly at the edges. It would be so easy to take a step forward and lay her head against his chest and feel his arms closing around her, his face nuzzling her neck. But even while she was imagining how that would feel, she was already distancing herself, wondering how long it would take him to clear his clothes from her bedroom wardrobe and his toiletries from the bathroom. There were a few odds and ends in the kitchen that he’d brought over. A set of digital scales, a Le Creuset oven dish. He was a much better, more committed cook than she was. She’d miss that. Already Will was receding into her past, even though he was right in front of her.
‘Please, Leanne!’ He was like a drowning man determinedly clinging on to her hand even while slipping further and further into the water. ‘Give me another chance.’
He looked so young, standing there in her kitchen with his stricken expression and his pooling tears. For a split second she wondered if it might be possible to retract the last few hours, like cancelling a credit-card transaction, and go back to the way things were.
‘Sorry, Will,’ she said, remembering too late that she wasn’t the one who should be apologizing.
But sorry was exactly what she was.
35
All day he’d been feeling funny. That res
tless feeling like he just wanted to be moving all the time never left him alone and he found himself pacing around his flat, unable to sit still. But the worst thing was the flashbacks. Usually he had a lie-in on a Saturday. But today he couldn’t stay in bed. The closer it got to the time he was due at Suzy’s for Bethany’s sleepover, the harder it was to ward off the images that flashed relentlessly through his mind. Hair that smelled of apples, peach-soft skin. Heart beating like a baby bird. No. No. No. He couldn’t, wouldn’t think of it. Today was different. Emily was different. It wouldn’t end up the same way. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. That’s why he’d written ‘SORRY’. Because he was. And afterwards he’d been so careful. Gloves. Black waterproof nylon jacket. Plastic sheeting in his car. Yet still he’d found blood on his best trousers and something sticky and disgusting behind his ear.
Focus on something else. Fifty more push-ups. Twenty-five pull-ups on the bar hooked over the living-room door.
But when he approached Suzy’s house, it felt as if all his nerve-endings were jangling. He’d dressed carefully. He didn’t want it to look like he’d made too much of an effort so he’d worn his new jeans – light-blue stiff denim – and a white polo shirt that showed off his tan and clung just tightly enough to the muscles of his chest and upper arms.
Shame Suzy hadn’t made as much of an effort. When she came to the door she was wearing denim shorts that she really didn’t have any business wearing at her age and a lime-green T-shirt. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head and held up with an enormous claw-type clip. Flat sandals revealed metallic-painted toenails.
‘All right, babe?’ She pressed her lips to his. ‘Honestly, you wouldn’t believe the state Bethany has got herself into over this sleepover. It’s all she’s spoken about for days, I swear to God. It got to the point last night where I told her, if I hear one more word about the sodding sleepover, it’s cancelled.’
‘They here already?’
‘Yeah. They’re all in the garden. They wanted cocktails! The little madams.’
At the back door, Jason hesitated, momentarily immobilized by tension. He could hear the sound of girlish giggles coming from the garden and Bethany squealing, ‘Oh my GOD!’
‘Oh look, it’s my mum’s boyfriend,’ she said as he walked outside blinking in the sunlight. She sang the last word as if ‘boyfriend’ was actually a code word for something else.
‘Give over,’ said Suzy, but she looked pleased and grabbed hold of Jason’s hand.
‘Jason, this is Katie.’ She indicated a large blonde girl in a T-shirt dress who looked a lot older than the others. ‘And this is Tara.’ A mixed-race girl with a beautiful heart-shaped face and hundreds of tiny plaits raised her hand shyly.
‘And of course you know Emily.’
Until that moment he hadn’t dared look at her, but now he saw that she had dressed up for the occasion in a white dress with thin straps and a rosebud pattern. He wondered if she’d got dressed up for him and his heart started thudding painfully against his ribcage. Her dark hair was loose today and hanging down over her face so he couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew they would be glued to the ground. She was so shy, so different from the others with their loud shrieking voices and cackling laughs. Before he could stop it, he had a flashback to another girl, also quiet and unable to meet his eye. Instantly his skin was damp with sweat and his face was hot and he had to dig his trimmed nails into his palm and count backwards from ten in his head until the heat ebbed away. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He thought he’d dealt with all that. This wasn’t going to be the same. Emily was different. He was different. He’d learned, matured. He’d been doing a lot of work on himself. This time he’d keep himself under control.
‘Jason’s going to help me keep you lot in order, aren’t you, Jase?’
Suzy looped a proprietorial arm around his waist and he had to stop himself shrugging it off. He sent a silent message to Emily assuring her she had no reason to be jealous.
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ he said. ‘So no trouble, right? No sneaking boys in here.’
Tara and Katie squealed in gleeful mock horror.
‘No way,’ said Bethany, but he could tell she was secretly thrilled at the idea. Give her a year or two and she’d be a right handful. Suzy would be better off laying down some firm ground rules now. Not that she would, of course. She was probably exactly the same when she was a teenager. Sneaking around with boys at thirteen. On the pill by fourteen. If Keira so much as …
But that was a thought too far. He forced himself to imagine a big red STOP sign, just as he’d been taught to by his anger-management coach. He pictured it standing between him and thoughts of his estranged daughter.
‘Oh, they’re too young for all that,’ said Suzy. ‘Bethany knows I’m going to pack her off to a convent if she ever so much as mentions a boy’s name.’
But Jason knew the truth. He knew what really went on in girls’ heads.
‘Who wants to go on the trampoline?’
Bethany had had enough of her mocktail and was anxious to be getting on with the next thing. Jason had noticed that about her before. How impatient she was.
There was a chorus of agreement from the other girls and they all jumped up and started racing towards the trampoline at the far end of the small garden. Jason swallowed noisily, his mouth suddenly dry as dust. The others kicked off their flip-flops but Emily lingered over unbuckling her sandals. Her shoulder blades jutted out sharply from between the straps of her dress as she bent over, carefully removing first one shoe then the other.
‘Come on, babe, let’s leave ’em to it.’ Suzy tugged at his shirt.
‘Yeah, coming.’ But he remained rooted to the spot, his heart thudding. Any moment now she’d go up the ladder. She was smaller than the others, so she wouldn’t be able to pull herself up without it, as they had. He wanted to stay to watch her jumping, her dark hair streaming out behind her. He could imagine it so clearly it hurt.
‘Jase!’ Suzy’s voice was sharp and her fingers tightened vice-like around his arm.
‘Sorry, love, I was miles away. Thinking about my Keira, and how much she’d love this.’
Immediately Suzy’s grip relaxed and her tone changed.
‘Oh God, I’m such a selfish cow sometimes!’ She gave herself a playful slap to the forehead. ‘I should have known being here would make you miss your daughter. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if someone tried to take Bethany from me. I’m going to help you take your mind off it though. Come on.’
She turned him round until he was facing away from the trampoline and then started pulling him in the direction of the back door. ‘This lot will be busy for a while and I’ve got a really good idea for distracting you from gloomy thoughts.’
She briefly rested her hand on his bum and Jason stiffened, fighting the wave of anger that swept over him, taking him by surprise.
But by the time he’d followed Suzy up the stairs, he was feeling calmer. There was no rush. He had all night, after all.
36
Leanne felt it the moment she swiped in through the office door – a low-level energy like the whole place was humming. There was a familiar prickle as the hairs on her arms stood up in anticipation. Ever since Desmond had called her first thing to tell her they’d arrested Sally Freeland’s source and he’d given up the details of the paedophile ring, she’d had that on-the-edge-of-your-seat feeling which had almost, though not quite, made her forget about Will.
‘We’ve got them. All of them.’
Desmond’s deputy, Andy Curtis, didn’t smile often so when he did it was always a shock, taking ten years off him at a stroke.
‘You did well, Leanne, and don’t think it won’t be recognized. We’re on the verge of cracking this one.’
‘Don’t tell me you can feel it in your water.’
‘Oi, my water never lies, I’ll have you know. Seriously though, we’ve got all five of those bastards in separate rooms downstairs.’<
br />
‘Five? Including Blake?’
A prick of conscience pierced Leanne’s excitement. She’d promised Sally Freeland she’d do her best to keep her source, Julian Blake, out of things. After all, without his information they wouldn’t have had any grounds to pull the Nemo lot in.
‘Yeah, he’s here too. Crying like a baby apparently. Did you know he’s a schoolteacher? Head of a sixth form apparently. Married as well.’
Leanne felt a wave of nausea. From what Sally had said, Julian Blake, aka ‘Serge’, was a man who battled daily against his compulsions.
‘Don’t lose any sympathy over that scum.’ Curtis had noticed her expression. ‘Anyway, if he wasn’t involved and his information leads to an arrest then he’ll get off lightly.’
‘Has anyone fessed up?’
It was too much to hope, but there was always that faint chance of an instant, total cave-in.
‘Not yet, but once they realize we’ve seized their computers, they might get more chatty.’
‘How’s the Lion of the North?’
Curtis smiled again, his face looking awkward as if the smiling muscles were protesting against the unfamiliar exercise.
‘Yes, well, Bobby Jarvis is trying his best to roar, but actually it’s more like a mewl. The boss is in with him right now.’
Leanne had wondered which of the men would get the dubious honour of the Desmond treatment.
‘Pete’s talking to one of the others. Stephen Lancaster. A barrister as it turns out, would you believe?’
Leanne remembered now Howard Walsh telling her about a teacher or a lawyer who had passed on secrets about the ring to one of his contacts who was holding compromising information about him. Instinctively she knew here was the weakest link. And it was Pete who had him.