by Celina Grace
“That would be fab.”
Ricky reached for his jacket and extracted his wallet from an inner pocket. He took a business card out and handed it to Kate. “Here you go. He’s a good bloke, you’ll find him helpful.”
Kate smiled at him. “Thank you very much.”
Ricky smiled back. “Now, if you’re not too busy, I’d like to take you out to lunch again. What do you say?”
“Oh—” For a minute, Kate was lost for words. “Well, that’s really kind of you…”
Ricky gestured to the clock on the wall. “Come on, it is lunchtime. And I owe you a meal.”
Did he? Kate couldn’t remember who had paid for the meal in London. Had it been her? On impulse, she said, “Actually, I would love to. Thanks, Ricky.”
“Where’s a good place to eat around here?”
Kate thought quickly. Not The Arms; she didn’t relish a whole load of gossip from fellow officers seeing her dining with a handsome young man and wondering what the situation was. The Black Cat? But that was over the other side of town… She surely couldn’t take him to the sushi restaurant she’d recently been to with Anderton. At the thought of her partner, guilt kicked in. It’s only lunch… Kate opened her mouth to retract her agreement to the meal and then closed it again. Out loud, she suggested The Boathouse, a nice pub down by the river.
“Sounds good to me. Shall we go?” Ricky pulled on his jacket and courteously stood back to let Kate leave the room first. She opened the door, her head spinning, wondering what on earth she was doing.
Chapter Thirty Four
Like The Arms, The Boathouse had undergone a revamp in recent years. Kate, looking about her, thought the theme they’d gone for was ‘pretentious minimalism’. Slate tiled floors replaced the sticky old carpet, the walls were painted in grey and the bar was a long, curving sweep of polished copper. An aggressively modern Christmas tree stood in one corner, its fake foliage black, hung with copper and rose gold ornaments.
“There’s something slightly wrong about a black Christmas tree, don’t you think?” Ricky asked as they sat down to a black iron table with their drinks.
“I know what you mean. It’s not exactly…festive.”
“What are you doing for Christmas, anyway?”
Kate hesitated. Tell the truth, Kate. To her dismay, she heard herself say, “Oh, not sure yet. Haven’t really thought about it.” For God’s sake, woman. Just tell him you’re spending it with your partner.
Ricky was looking at her with eyebrows raised, waiting for more. Kate said, hastily, “What about you?”
“Oh, I’ll be at home with my parents.”
“Do you celebrate Christmas?” Kate asked, her mouth running away with itself before she engaged her brain, and then she immediately wondered if she had made a racist remark.
Ricky laughed. “Of course we do. Any excuse for presents.”
“Fair enough.” Kate wondered if she sounded like as big an idiot as she felt. “Sorry, it’s just—I’m not at all religious myself—”
“Nor am I.” Ricky gave her a wink across the top of his pint glass. “As you can see by the fact that I’m drinking this, and I have just ordered ham, egg and chips.”
It was Kate’s turn to laugh. “Well, that’s true. What about your parents?”
Ricky put his pint back down. “Well, they go to mosque. But they’re pretty liberal, really. They wouldn’t expect us to do what we didn’t want to do.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Just a sister. She’s a junior doctor in the NHS.”
Kate was reminded of her conversation with Umar Minhas. “And you’re a… What was your official title again?”
“I’m an agent handler.” Ricky suddenly looked very sombre.
“Are you okay?”
He sighed. “Sorry, it’s just—it just suddenly hit me that I’m never going to see Samir again. Or speak to him, or anything. Not in this life, anyway. If there is an afterlife…”
“I’m really sorry,” said Kate, thinking of Roman and, by association, Chloe. “It’s really hard.”
He took a sip of his pint, swallowing the beer down as if it hurt him. “It’s just…we’re trained and trained and trained to keep the security of all those agents working for us. It’s a pivotal part of my role. I feel like I’ve failed him.”
Kate hesitated. Then she said, “But…what if the reason he was killed was actually nothing to do with his…his job? I mean, he was undercover but was that why he was killed?” She stopped speaking, aware that she should probably leave it at that.
Ricky looked at her. “Do you think that’s the case?”
Kate answered honestly. “I don’t know. But I think we should keep an open mind.” She found the business card that Ricky had given her in the office and brandished it at him. “Your contact—this John Cooper—hopefully he’ll be able to tell me whether Mo and—what’s the other one, Aquib—have alibis for the night of Samir’s death. If they do, and they’re credible, then that crosses them off the list. Probably.”
“Yeah,” Ricky said, cynically. “That’s not to say that they couldn’t have ordered someone else to do it. Kill Samir, I mean.”
“I know.” Kate put the card safely back in her purse. At the same moment, the waiter bore their food to the table and the next few minutes were taken up with shaking out paper napkins, reaching for cutlery and grinding black pepper.
They ate for a few minutes in silence. Kate was transported back in time to a pub meal she’d had with Anderton, before they were together but after they’d had their one night stand. The sexual tension she was sure they’d both felt as they ate their meals. What had happened to that? And what the hell was she doing, essentially going on a lunch date with another man? She put her fork down, appetite dwindling.
At the same moment, her mobile began ringing. Kate dug it out of her handbag to see Theo’s name on the screen. She mouthed an apology to Ricky and pressed the answer icon.
“Kate, mate. It’s Theo.”
“I know. You okay? What’s the problem?”
“I’m at Bucklesbury and we’ve found something. Can you get here?”
Kate felt her stomach leap in excitement. “The weapon?”
“No, no. Not that. Something else.”
Her stomach spasmed again, this time less pleasurably. “Not another body?” she said, in a lower tone which nevertheless made Ricky look over at her with interest.
“Nah, nothing like that.”
So, just tell me. God, Theo could be irritating when he pulled the ‘keep you in suspense’ card.
“So, what?” asked Kate, trying not to let her impatience show.
“I’d rather not say over the phone. But you’ll want to see it. Can you get here?”
Kate looked down at her half eaten meal, and then over at her handsome companion, and sighed. “I’ll be there as quick as I can, Theo.”
“Thanks mate. See you soon, then.”
Kate said goodbye and then put her phone back in her bag. She looked across at Ricky and smiled, ruefully.
“Duty calls?”
“I’m afraid so.” Kate stood up. “Sorry to rush out on you like this, but you know how it is.”
“I do,” agreed Ricky. “But don’t let it bother you. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
Kate coughed. “Um…yes. Listen, I’ll get the bill.”
Ricky waved her away. “Don’t be silly. It’s on me. And don’t forget to keep me posted on what John comes up with.”
“I won’t.” Kate hesitated for a moment. A handshake seemed too formal. Without thinking too much about it, she leant forward to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. As she did so, he turned his face to hers, so her kiss ended up landing on his mouth. His lips were soft and yielding under hers.
Kate leapt bac
k as if she’d been scalded. “Sorry!”
Ricky was smiling. “That’s okay.” He gave her a mischievous glance. “Do it again if you like.”
Kate laughed out of embarrassment. Then, stuttering something that was meant to be a goodbye, she hurried from the pub.
Chapter Thirty Five
Well, that was awkward. Kate drove towards Bucklesbury, speculation over what her team had found completely driven from her head by what had just happened. She hadn’t meant to kiss him on the mouth… She thought of how she would feel if she’d found out that Anderton had had a cosy lunch with another woman—someone like, say, Theo’s girlfriend, DCI Weaver—and had ended up kissing her goodbye, if inadvertently. Would she be happy with that? No, she damn well wouldn’t. You have to stop this, Kate. It’s far too dangerous.
As she parked the car in the Bucklesbury House carpark, she was struck by an unwelcome thought. She and Anderton were taking the next step in commitment – buying a house together. Was it sheer coincidence that she’d started—well—being interested in another man? Was it a sign that she shouldn’t be committing to moving in together with her partner, in a house they both owned? Was her subconscious trying to tell her something? Kate was a big believer in trusting your gut: it had scarcely ever let her down. But was it just bad timing?
Kate grabbed her coat and bag and locked the car, beginning the walk to the house. She wished she could talk to someone about her predicament but, given the history of the closeness between Anderton and the rest of the team, she had a feeling her behaviour would be judged pretty harshly, even by her closest friends. Besides, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know what she should be doing. She shouldn’t be contacting Ricky Khan in any capacity other than a professional way—or having lunches with him. Or, indeed, thinking about him at all.
Kate put the last of these thoughts into operation and turned her attention towards work. She pulled out her mobile and rang Theo as she walked past the café.
“Where are you guys?”
“Head for the outbuildings right at the back of the church.” Kate could hear scraping and rustling in the background as Theo spoke. “We’re all here, you’ll see us.”
She found the team without difficulty. They were gathered outside a nondescript wooden shed, the door to it hanging off its hinges. It had clearly been forced.
“What is it?” Kate asked, raising a hand in greeting.
Theo looked smug. “We found this place, right, and couldn’t seem to find the keys to it.”
“The manager—” Kate forgot his name for a moment and then memory returned. “Roland—Mr Roland—he didn’t have keys to this?”
“Nope. And nor did the deputy, that Mrs Kite. Rosamund.”
“Odd.”
“Not so odd when you realise what’s inside it.” Theo gestured towards the dark interior of the shed. “Have a look.”
Rav held out a torch. “Here, Kate, take this.”
Kate took it with thanks. Then she peered inside, her gaze following the white beam of the torch light.
She’d known it was going to be something significant—and illegal—but the sight of several handguns still made her gasp. There was also what looked like a bale of cannabis, wrapped in thick plastic, and various bags of white powder and pills.
“Good god. This was just all laid out like this, in plain sight?”
Theo scoffed. “No, of course not. It was all in that cabinet there.” He gestured to a tall wooden cupboard that stood against the far wall. “All packed away nicely. It was padlocked, too.” Kate noticed the broken padlock on the floor and nodded in understanding.
Kate withdrew from the entrance of the shed and faced her team. “I’m guessing that Nick Riley might be the owner of the keys to this shed, don’t you think?”
“Yep,” Theo agreed. “Which would explain why he lied about why he was actually here. He wasn’t meeting Rosamund at all. Well, he might have been – I mean, she said he was, right, so they could have been having an affair as well —but that’s not the only reason. He’s here dealing weapons and drugs as well.”
Kate clenched her fist in triumph. “No doubt to Samir or one of the other jihadi group members. They’re planning an attack, they need weapons.” She looked at the bags of drugs. “And money, no doubt,” she added.
She felt a surge of excitement. Finally, finally, things were falling into place. Nick’s late night visits to the stately home, the evasiveness when questioned about his reasons for doing so. Had Samir stumbled upon this stash of illegality, or had he actively been liaising with Nick Riley in the guise of a would-be terrorist? Was that the reason for his death? Had Nick found out he was actually a government agent and decided to silence him? Kate thought once more of the ferocity of the killing. There was nothing more likely to bring about primal rage than the realisation that you’d been betrayed by someone you thought you could trust…
Out loud, Kate said, “Right, well, we have a prime suspect now, don’t we? Can a couple of you find Nick Riley and pull him in for questioning? He’s under suspicion of murder, let alone dealing in prohibited substances and firearms.”
“I’ll do that,” offered Theo.
“Great. Take someone else with you. Martin, you good to go?” Martin nodded, helpful as always. “Great. You guys get going, and I’ll join you back at the station. Chloe, Rav, can you sort out SOCO? We need to preserve the scene.” Kate buzzed with adrenaline. And just think, this morning, she’d had no idea of how the day would unfold. She remembered she needed to talk to the Met contact of Ricky’s. Well, that could wait until after Nick Riley’s interview.
This, if what they had speculated was indeed what had happened, solved the mystery of why Samir’s body had been found at Bucklesbury House. Kate could see it now: the two men meeting there to discuss plans, to buy weapons or drugs. Somehow Nick had found out about Samir being undercover. Kate took a quick look back into the shed. There were several knives lying amongst the guns. It was highly likely that one of them would turn out to the murder weapon—forensics would help there. But why had they been in the woods? And why had Nick Riley identified Samir the first time she’d interviewed him if he’d been the one who killed him?
Oh well. There were always questions that took more time and more investigation before they could be answered. Kate nodded to herself with satisfaction. Mark would be pleased. She said her farewells to the members of the team who were remaining at the scene and headed back to her car, running everything that needed to be done through her head. Nearly there, Kate. Nearly there.
Chapter Thirty Six
Nick Riley wasted no time in asking for a lawyer. The duty solicitor who arrived half an hour later was one that Kate knew well and liked, Nathan Anstey. He gave her a cautious smile as he seated himself next to Nick, who was staring down at his hands. He hadn’t yet looked Kate in the eye.
Martin sat next to Kate and they’d already agreed that he would lead the interview. It would be good experience for him, and his quiet, measured manner would probably also put the suspect at his ease. Fingers crossed.
“You’ve worked at Bucklesbury House for how long, Mr Riley?”
Nick raised his head. “Um… For about two years.”
“And you have access to the entire estate?”
Nick frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re able to access every area on the estate?”
Nick was silent, clearly thinking this through and wondering if it was a trap. “Um…no. Not everywhere. I don’t have any keys to the house or the café.” He was silent for a moment and added, “Or the shop.”
Martin nodded. “But you have access to the whole of the grounds? I imagine you do, as your work must necessitate that.”
Nathan Anstey shifted slightly in his seat, but Nick was already speaking. “Yeah, I guess.”
Martin placed a varied set of
keys with a cracked leather fob on the table in front of Nick Riley. “Are these your keys, Mr Riley?”
Nick stared at them. “Yeah,” he said, after a moment.
“Well, that is interesting,” Martin said in a deceptively mild tone. “Because two of these keys allowed us to gain access to a shed at the back of the church and a cupboard within the shed.”
“I’d like a word with my client,” said Nathan. “In private, please.”
“In a minute,” Martin said, not breaking eye contact with Nick. “Do you know what we found in that cupboard, Nick?”
Nick stared back at him. “No.”
“Really? Your keys are the only ones to access that shed and that cupboard—Mr Roland and Mrs Kite don’t have any copies—and you don’t know what we found there?”
“I—” Nick fell silent, his gaze dropping to the tangle of keys in front of him.
“I would like a private word with my client, right now.” Nathan looked directly at Kate, frowning.
Kate took in the lightning glance that Martin gave her, questioning what to do. She nodded and gestured with her head to the door.
“DC Liu and DI Redman have left the interview,” Martin said, rising to his feet. “Mr Anstey, we’ll give you ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” Nathan said, sounding anything but grateful.
Outside in the corridor, Martin looked at Kate, shrugging. “What do you think?”
“Oh, I don’t think, I know. That’s the end of Nick telling us anything, Martin. It’ll be ‘no comment’ all the way, now.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Martin looked upset. “Did I go in too hard, do you think?”
Kate shook her head. “You were fine. I’m amazed you even got a word out of him, to be honest.” She thought for a moment and then added, “Look, you carry on, see what you get. I’ve got a phone call to make.”
Back at her desk, Kate retrieved the card that Ricky had given her and dialled the number. It went straight to voicemail. Sighing inwardly, Kate left a message and replaced the receiver in the handset. What now? Should she re-join Martin in the interview? But what was the point, knowing that Nick Riley would no doubt be saying absolutely nothing?