by Mari Hannah
‘I agree,’ Kate said. ‘Andy, Lisa, armed with everything we know about him, first thing in the morning go and bring him in. He’s top priority until I say otherwise. Be careful. According to Collins, he’s a nasty piece of work. Reckons he’s into martial arts, so watch yourselves.’
Carmichael smiled at DC Andy Brown, pleased to be doing some real police work that didn’t involve a computer keyboard.
‘You seen his rap sheet, boss?’ Maxwell said.
‘No. He has form?’
‘He does indeed. He’s twenty-two years old, going on fifteen. Spent his short life in and out of care and prison. He has a string of convictions going back to his early teens, increasing in seriousness, including animal cruelty, inflicting unnecessary suffering. Dog fighting is his thing. Apparently, he’d bet on two flies climbing up a wall.’ Maxwell’s face went red as he realized he was sitting next to Robbo, who’d been fighting his own gambling addiction for a long time. He hadn’t meant any offence and none was taken.
Kate moved on. ‘Any suggestion Gardner uses any kind of weaponry?’
‘A couple of vicious dogs,’ Maxwell replied. ‘Although I’ve been told he doesn’t need any. He’s built like a brick shithouse, according to Area Command.’
‘Hank, I’m taking no chances. I’d like you to oversee the operation. Just be around when Lisa and Andy give Gardner an early wake-up call. Make sure we have enough troops to lock him up if he puts up a fight or makes a run for it. Get in touch with the Dog Section. He’ll probably be on their radar. Tell them you need backup in case he sets his dogs on you.’
Hank made a frightened face.
Kate shivered.
The last time they had faced an angry dog, the animal had had to be destroyed. Not its fault. It had been bred and trained to attack. Under other circumstances, it might have led a long and happy life. Unwilling to indulge that thought, she turned her attention to the team. ‘We’ve been led to believe that Elliott Foster’s mother dropped him off in Elsdon on Saturday evening. How didn’t I know that? Find Grant and get him in here—’
‘I’m here, boss. Is there a problem?’
She hadn’t noticed anyone entering the room, and turned to the voice.
Grant was on his feet. The door was still swinging shut behind him. ‘Collins told us Elliott’s mother saw him shortly before the fight, just hours before he died. You interviewed her. How come I had to hear that from a witness?’
Grant’s reaction was immediate, his expression resolute. ‘That’s not my understanding. I specifically asked her when she last saw him. She told me it was three weeks ago. The statement is on your desk. I’m sorry, boss. I feel I’ve let you down.’
‘People lie. Don’t worry about it.’
‘Told you I didn’t like her.’
‘Well, now you have a chance to redeem yourself. Give her a call. I want her in here first thing tomorrow. Don’t tell her why and take no excuses. She has information we need urgently. Don’t let her persuade you otherwise. Nothing she is doing is more important than talking to us. That’s it. Go home, all of you, and get some rest. We’ve a busy day coming up.’
‘I’m going to work on.’ Carmichael was looking at Kate. ‘I’ve got stuff to finish off, so if you need me, I’ll be here.’
Andy’s face dropped. It was obvious he had something else in mind.
Hank looked at his protégé. ‘Lisa, don’t stay too late. If we’re on a dawn raid I need you at your best.’
Satisfied, Kate walked towards her office, leaving them packing away their stuff. As she reached for the door handle, she hesitated, and turned to face the squad. ‘Guys, one more thing . . .’ She waited for their attention. ‘I don’t intend to discuss it – we’ve got more important things to do – but thanks for your support today. By the way, my leave has been cancelled so you’re stuck with me. Let’s keep going. We need a result.’
Kate sat down at her desk to make a call. The number she dialled rang out for what seemed like ages. Glancing at her watch, she panicked, wondering if Jane Gibson had already gone to bed. Just as she was about to ring off, the old lady answered with a croaky voice that was hardly audible.
She didn’t sound well.
‘It’s DCI Daniels, Jane. I didn’t wake you, did I?’
‘No, Inspector, don’t concern yourself. I rarely sleep. Is there news?’
‘I’m afraid not – and I’m so sorry to disturb you at such a late hour. Shan’t keep you long.’ Kate didn’t want to involve her at all and failed to mention that her daughter had openly lied to Grant, concealing the fact that she’d seen Elliott on the night he died. It was unnecessary to add salt to a raw and gaping wound.
Kate felt the silence stretch out between them. She needed the answer to a question that only Jane could provide. If there were any other way of obtaining it, Kate would have taken it. There wasn’t. ‘Is now a convenient time?’
‘My Alfie used to say there’s no time like the present.’
Kate wondered if she was talking about her late husband or the son who’d committed suicide in the woods. They shared the same name. She didn’t ask. ‘My dad always said never put off till tomorrow what you can do today. Different words. Same sentiment.’
‘What can I do for you?’ Jane said.
Kate pictured her in a floral nightie, an audio book on the CD player, the opportunity to inhabit someone else’s world for a time and leave behind another miserable chapter of her long life. ‘We’ve been unable to find Elliott’s winnings and I was wondering if he left them with you for safekeeping.’
‘He did,’ Jane said without a moment’s hesitation. ‘Apart from the ten pounds he took out with him.’
Not a robbery then – unless whoever attacked him expected it to be on his person.
‘Do you want it back?’ the boy’s grandma asked.
‘No, I just needed to know if the money was missing.’ Kate was about to thank her and hang up when she had second thoughts. ‘Jane, do you know Beth Casey?’
‘Yes, dear.’
‘I gather they were very close.’
‘Inseparable.’
‘Beth told me that Elliott intended treating you for your birthday. It was such a lovely gesture.’ And a nice thought to leave her with.
Hoping that Jane Gibson would sleep easier tonight, Kate logged off from her computer, tidied away her papers and locked her desk drawer. Grabbing her jacket and briefcase, she was about to switch off her anglepoise lamp when Hank arrived, pulling on his overcoat. He shut the door, a sure sign he had something on his mind that couldn’t wait until morning.
‘You OK?’ he asked.
‘I thought you were long gone.’ Kate zipped up her jacket. ‘I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be?’
‘You’ve had a heavy day, that’s all.’ ‘Don’t fuss, Hank.’
He made no move to leave.
‘Did I forget something?’ she asked. ‘Did you?’
Hank glanced over his shoulder, then at her. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything.’
‘I’m hearing a “but”.’
He looked uncomfortable.
‘Spit it out, Hank. I have a bed waiting and a few things to do before I get there.’
‘You’re trending on the force grapevine,’ he blurted out. ‘Not our lot, I hasten to add.’ He wiped his face with his hand. ‘I thought you should know that Atkins is making his mouth go to anyone stupid enough to listen to the gobshite.’
‘And why is that of interest to me?’
For once, Hank was unsure of himself. ‘Well, what do you want me to say, should anyone ask? I don’t want to put my foot in it.’
‘What would you like to say?’
‘That it’s none of their business—’
‘So there’s your answer.’ She quickly changed the subject. ‘Everyone sure what they’re doing tomorrow?’
‘Geared up and ready to go. Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘I said so, didn’t I?’
‘What
are you doing?’
‘Now? In the morning?’ Kate was confused. ‘You fixed me up with Adam Foster. I’m up with the larks, remember?’
Hank glanced over his shoulder again. Kate followed his gaze. Apart from Carmichael diligently working away, the incident room was empty.
Kate’s mobile went – a text arriving.
Tapping the ‘messages’ icon, she discovered a text from Fiona Fielding. She looked up without viewing what it said or showing any interest. ‘What else is on your mind, Hank?’
He glanced at the phone in her hand, then at her.
Did nothing get past him?
‘Well?’ she said. ‘I’ve got places to go, people to see, even if you haven’t.’
‘Have you told Jo you’re not allowed out to play?’
She shook her head. ‘Not yet.’
‘Don’t you think you should?’
‘That’s not a conversation for the phone.’
‘It’s not,’ he said. ‘Is that where you’re going now?’
‘What’s with all the questions?’ She walked round him and switched off the light, plunging them into semi-darkness.
‘Are you?’ he said as he followed her out.
Kate closed the door. ‘It’s not possible at the moment.’
‘She’s all packed!’ He didn’t try to hide his disapproval.
Hostility was not a trait Kate often saw in Hank. It hurt her to see him like that after they had been so close in Spain and since. The idea that he might find her uncaring gnawed at her. She ought to call Jo.
She would . . .
Later.
‘I can’t help that, can I?’ she said. The words sounded lame. ‘I have something else to do first.’
‘Like what? Kate, you can’t do this to her. Not again.’
She rounded on him. ‘You tell her then!’
‘Oh, that’ll go down well,’ he said. ‘What could possibly be more important than—’
‘Don’t!’ She withdrew her pointing finger and tried to calm down. ‘Don’t look at me that way or try or run my life.’ She was almost yelling and resenting the implication that she was being unreasonable. ‘My dad does that and I hate it. I don’t take it from him and I sure as hell won’t take it from you.’
‘Well, if it’s honesty hour, I’m not finished.’ Hank came right back at her, coldly, like she’d let him down. Moreover, let herself down. ‘Isn’t it time you buried the hatchet with him?’
‘Not a chance! The reason we’re at loggerheads is not my doing. He drove me away and don’t you ever forget it. You know why? I don’t live up to his high expectations. He thinks I made all the wrong choices, professionally and personally. He’s a homophobe, Hank. A man I used to love but no longer recognize. Today of all days, you should understand why I’m loath to make my peace with him. He’s a monumental pain in the ass.’
His raised eyebrow said: So are you sometimes. ‘Kate, I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
She hissed her response. ‘You didn’t even come close.’
Hank averted his eyes.
Kate let it go. It was too late in the day to get into an argument she knew she’d never win. Hank was right. She’d been selfish and unreasonable. Jo should have been her first priority. Kate owed her that much. But she knew Jowell enough to know what her response would have been to Atkins’ shocking behaviour in the incident room. Once she calmed down, she’d have brushed it aside without giving it another thought. Maybe she was even glad. Kate no longer had any excuses to hide.
She pictured her at home: suitcases packed, music playing, chilling with a glass of red wine, feet up, researching where they might eat and what landmarks they might visit while in Scotland. She’d handle Atkins’ outburst better then most, but Kate tried not to imagine how she might react to another broken promise. There was a limit to how many times you could disappoint someone. Kate had reached her quota – and some – months ago.
Hank was staring at her, reading her mind. ‘What could possibly be more important than Jo?’ He suddenly stopped talking as he realized what she was about to do. ‘After what you told me earlier, you have got to be kidding me.’
She met his gaze defiantly.
‘Are you mad?’ he said.
Probably.
Kate turned away, her heart thumping in her chest. She’d not rest until she knew Beth Casey was safe. If that meant going through Atkins and pissing Jo off, then so be it.
34
There was a rap on the door. Beth threw up again, telling her father to go away, wishing she’d taken Kate Daniels’ advice and given him a wide berth. Apart from tearing her to bits over her failure to confide in him – screaming at her because he’d been suspended – with Chris in custody he’d gone overboard, blaming them both for ending his precious career.
He’d enjoyed telling her that, with a criminal record, Chris would never get bail. ‘If he goes down – and I’ll do everything in my power to make that happen – it’ll be years before you see him again.’
Those words were stuck in her head.
Beth couldn’t shift them.
Flushing the toilet, she washed her face and opened the door quietly, hoping to avoid another confrontation. Her father was outside waiting for her. He’d been drinking heavily and that made her nervous. Ordinarily he didn’t drink when she was in the house. Her mother said it was because he couldn’t trust himself to stop before he fell over.
What she really meant was before he got violent.
‘Get to bed,’ he said.
‘No! I’m leaving.’
‘To go where?’
‘Anywhere but here.’
‘Sit down and act your age. This would never have happened if you’d come forward.’
‘You said that already. I don’t need to hear it again.’ Beth made a move towards her room. Her father stepped sideways, blocking her way, arms folded across his chest. ‘Get out of my way,’ she said. ‘I’m packing my stuff and going to Mum’s.’
‘No, you’re not. You’re staying where I can keep an eye on you. When you act like a grown-up, I’ll treat you like one.’ Seeing the hurt look on her face, he climbed down, though he stopped short of an apology. ‘Some of the things I said were not nice. I didn’t mean to call you names. You just made me so angry.’
‘It doesn’t take much.’
‘Beth, sit down so we can talk. I don’t think you fully understand what it is you’ve done, how serious it is to withhold evidence and waste police time when half the force are out looking for an offender who might well be a danger to others.’
‘Waste your time, you mean. I don’t care! I don’t want to talk to you.’
‘While you’re under this roof, you’ll do as I say.’
‘You can’t make me. I hate you!’
Kate parked at the rear of the building. A sign on the wall warned: Residents’ Parking Only. She knew it was a bad idea to visit Atkins at home, but what choice did she have? Sober, she could handle him. Drunk, she wasn’t so confident. Volatile men were unpredictable. He was bad-tempered within the confines of the station. At home, with no witnesses, there was no knowing what he might do to her.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the buzzer next to Atkins’ name.
No answer.
She was about to walk away when a man appeared at her shoulder, mid forties with a friendly smile. They entered together, separating on the ground floor. He turned out to be Atkins’ neighbour.
Putting his key in the lock, he glanced back at her, cocking his head to one side, a smile beginning to form on his lips. ‘You’re knocking on the wrong door, love.’
Before Kate could think of a sarcastic retort, the door in front of her was yanked open. Atkins was unshaven, dressed casually in jeans and a pink sweater, his expression a mixture of surprise and contempt. His eyes were bloodshot and he reeked of booze.
‘What do you want?’
Kate held his gaze, aware that the eyes and ears of
his neighbour were upon them. Realizing they were under surveillance, Atkins told the ‘arrogant shit’ to sling his hook. He waited for the guy to disappear inside before turning to face her. There was not a flicker of regret or embarrassment from him. Away from the goldfish bowl of the MIR, with no audience to play to, she didn’t expect him to carry on his assault on her personal life, but she couldn’t count on it.
She returned his harsh stare. He might have influenced the way she’d be viewed by her team from now on. What he couldn’t do was change who she was. Who she loved. She cleared her throat. ‘I need to ask Beth a few more questions.’
‘Use the phone.’
‘Not my style,’Kate said. ‘I prefer the personal touch.’
‘Have you interviewed Collins yet?’
‘I’m not prepared to discuss that out here.’
He opened the door and she stepped inside.
‘Well?’ he barked.
Stripped of his responsibility for the murder investigation, he had no authority and no entitlement to information. She wasn’t obliged to tell him sod-all. Still, she decided to humour him so as not to alienate him altogether. ‘Their stories are practically identical. That’s all I’m prepared to say.’
‘What are you implying?’
He was pushing his luck. ‘I can see Beth here, or at the station if you prefer.’
‘It’s late. You’ll have to wait till morning.’
‘You know how these things work, James. I’ll see her now.’
‘What’s the rush?’
‘I need to know if the IP had a Twitter or Facebook account. I can execute a search, but that’ll take time I don’t have. Beth knew Elliott well. She might be able to help.’ It was a weak excuse, the only one Kate could think of. She could see he wasn’t buying it. He returned her gaze, ash falling from his cigarette onto his shoe.
Kate had encountered enough dodgy characters in her time to know that he’d done something he wasn’t proud of. Instinctively she knew it had nothing to do with her. Her gut feeling was that he’d bullied his daughter. And suddenly she was standing in the pouring rain outside his marital home. Then, like now, he was telling her to walk away and mind her own business; a stand-off in the street; a child’s tearful cries and the vice-like grip of a tiny hand in hers.