Ruby sighed. She had kept her safe for a while, but there was nothing more she could do. Her heart sank as she stepped inside her bedroom, and she wished that for once she had thought things through. What if Sharon had found her firearm? What if. . .? Her mind raced ahead, cursing her stupidity. How could she let herself get so emotionally involved in a case that she was taking potential victims into her own home? Yet, she knew that she would do it again if it meant saving a life. DC Ludgrove would be loyal; he would not dob her in, but he would never let her forget it either.
Judging by the crumpled bed, it appeared that Sharon had tried to sleep. Ruby’s nose twitched as she pulled back her duvet, drawn by a sour smell. Swearing under her breath, she recoiled at what greeted her – a pool of vomit that had seeped right through to the mattress beneath. So Sharon had tried to sleep, but her body had turned on her, driving her to seek out the drug she could not do without. ‘I shouldn’t have given her the money,’ Ruby muttered under her breath. But she knew if she didn’t, Sharon would be spending another night on the street. Throwing back the duvet, she headed for the living room, unable to face cleaning up the mess after a full night on shift. Plucking her mobile from her bag, she read the text on her screen.
Had to bail. Needed a fix. Sorry about the bed. X Sharon
Ruby sighed as a wave of tiredness swept over her, the emotional and physical demands of the case making themselves known. She would have to throw out her mattress or at least bleach it within an inch of its life. Either way, she wasn’t sleeping on it tonight. She stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the battered sofa that had come with the flat. There was no way she was sleeping on that. She could not go to the flat Nathan had bought her in case he was there. The last thing she wanted to do was to alert police to his hiding place a second time. She picked up her phone and made a call.
‘Wotcha,’ Downes said, answering the phone after just one ring.
‘I was wondering. . .’ Ruby said, pinching the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb, ‘. . .if you have a spare bed for the night. My flat’s been broken into.’ The cover story was necessary in case Sharon did a U-turn and made a false allegation that she had been dragged there against her will.
‘Are you OK?’ Downes said.
She pulled open the fridge and looked inside. ‘I’m fine, but someone’s eaten all my food and puked in my bed.’
‘Merciful hour! A proper modern-day Goldilocks, aren’t you? Have you called it in?’
It would have sounded comical were it not such a desperate situation. ‘Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s some kids on the block. I gave them a telling-off for smoking weed the other day. It’s my fault for not locking it properly.’
‘Yeah, but all the same—’
‘Calling it in will make things difficult,’ Ruby interrupted. ‘Nothing’s been taken.’
Silence fell as Downes absorbed her words. ‘Sure, come on over. Have you eaten? I was just going to order a takeaway. My treat.’
‘That’d be lovely, thanks.’ It was just as well considering Ruby had given the last of her cash to Sharon. All that was left in her fridge were some tomatoes and a half pint of milk. As well as taking her money, the cheeky cow had taken her groceries too.
‘Don’t delay,’ Downes said. ‘I’ll order it now so come straight round.’
Ruby knew that Downes would be glad of the company, although she hoped he would not see it for more than it was. All she wanted was to sleep, and she rolled her most unattractive pyjamas into her bag. As much as it pained her, she quickly grabbed some bin bags and shoved her bedding inside. The least she could do was leave them out for the binman. The flat smelt bad enough without coming back to that. There was one more thing left to do before she could leave. It took less than a minute to check her secret hiding place beneath the floorboards in the corner of her room. She exhaled with relief as she found her secret stash still in place. Sharon would’ve had to be a mind reader to find it. All the same, she had been stupid leaving her alone in her flat. The only good thing about it was there was nothing of value to steal. She pushed back the spare floorboard until it clicked into place. Rolling back the frayed red carpet, she inhaled the dusky smell of old cigarettes and dirt-trodden shoes. She sat back on her knees, pushing her hair back from her face as she wondered what had brought her to stay in such a godforsaken place. But there was no time to feel sorry for herself now.
She approached the front door, flinging it open until the inside handle dented the plasterboard on the other side. Gathering up all her strength, she kicked at the panel, just enough to make it appear that a break-in had taken place. Satisfied her story appeared plausible, she picked up her things and left.
Chapter Forty-Seven
By eleven o’clock Downes’s finest malt had worked its magic, making all the stress of the past week just float away. She had not meant to drink, but one glass led to two, and they were both mellowed, enjoying each other’s company and the fact they were not sitting at home, alone. In the background soft jazz played, a testament to Downes’s eclectic taste in music.
‘I’ve missed this,’ Downes said, stretching lazily on the sofa. He rested his sock-covered feet on Ruby’s lap in the way that only close friends could. In jeans and a T-shirt, he appeared a younger version of the man who rushed around the office muttering under his breath. ‘Is it safe to say we’re back on an even keel?’
The ice cubes clinked in her tumbler as Ruby swirled the honeyed liquid. ‘I’d like to be,’ she said, her eyes still fixed on her glass, ‘but how can I trust you if you’re waiting to trip me up?’ She sighed as she took in his puzzled expression. ‘I know you were ear-wigging on my meeting with Tweedy Steve.’
‘Jesus, Ruby, have you got eyes in the back of your head?’ He threw her a roguish smile, his expression turning serious as he caught the uncertainty in her eyes. ‘Everything I do is out of concern for you. I go to sleep, and all I can see is your face. I can’t. . .’
‘What? Can’t what?’ Ruby said, the last shred of annoyance dissipating.
Downes shook his head. ‘I’m an old man, I shouldn’t be getting myself tangled up with the likes of you. I just think it’s time you sorted yourself out and ploughed your energy into your job.’
‘But that’s not up to you, is it?’ Ruby said. ‘I decide what’s right for me.’ Silence fell between them and her tone softened. ‘But you’re right, it’s time I figured out what to do.’
‘Ach, you can’t ever leave the job. It’s in your blood. And as much as you throw a blind eye to the Crosbys’ shady dealings, I know it sickens you inside. These are the very people we’re fighting the war against.’ Jack leant forward and, picking up the decanter, topped up their drinks. ‘Maybe you’re right, you’ll have to make a decision. I just hope for your sake that it’s the right one. That team of yours would walk over broken glass if you asked them to. Can you say the same about the Crosbys?’
They fell into silence, their thoughts heavy. Ruby sank back a mouthful of her drink. ‘Do you really think Nathan’s responsible for those girls’ deaths?’
Downes shrugged. ‘I’ve been working long enough in this job to be able to look at it dispassionately. You’ve got the biggest heart, and if it was me in trouble you’re the first person I’d want in my corner. . .’
‘But?’ Ruby said.
‘Sometimes you need to step back and focus purely on the evidence. Nathan’s no stranger to violence, and I’m worried that all this fairy-tale stuff is diverting you from what’s really going on.’
‘But the doctor. . .’ Ruby said, too tired to be annoyed.
‘The doctor worked for them in the past, and he’s doing so now,’ Downes said. ‘Can’t you see? They placed the evidence under Nathan’s bed to distance themselves from his crimes. It’s very clever when you look at it, but a ploy nonetheless.’
‘I’m not going to argue, I just feel so guilty sitting here in comfort while there’s a murderer on the loose.’ She swallowed, th
e remnants of her drink feeling bitter in her mouth.
Downes clamped a hand on her knee and briefly gave it a little shake. ‘Don’t you worry, we’ll get Tanner in. Worrow will have my balls as earrings if we don’t.’
Ruby chuckled. Despite their disagreements, it was great to be back on good terms again.
The minutes ticked by. Downes hummed to some incomprehensible jazz tune Ruby had never heard of.
‘How are you? Everything alright?’ she asked, trying to play down her concerns. Jack was a proud man. He did not accept help easily despite the fact he spent half his life dictating to her.
Jack’s humming stilled. ‘You saw, didn’t you? The stuff belonging to the missus – you saw it when you were snooping around upstairs.’ The words were said with a strained smile.
‘I wasn’t snooping,’ Ruby took another sip of whiskey. ‘I was looking for some painkillers in the bathroom cabinet when I came across her stuff. And then when I came out of the hall, your bedroom door was open and. . .’
‘And you thought you’d take a little peek inside to see what I was hiding. Did you think I had another woman or something?’
Ruby shook her head; apparently too quickly for Downes’s liking, given his frown.
‘Because you didn’t think an auld fellow like me would be able to pull again?’
‘Because I thought you were too much in love with your wife to let her go,’ Ruby said sadly. ‘And that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Not many people experience such commitment in their lives.’
‘But you’re about to tell me that it’s time to move on?’
‘No, if having your wife’s things in the house gives you comfort then where’s the harm?’
‘It’s been over a year,’ he sighed, his eyes taking in the ornaments that were obviously chosen by her – the collection of crystals, the matching ballerinas, the floral curtains with matching pelmet that went out of fashion years ago. ‘I had the electrician round the other day. People just presume she’s still alive.’
Ruby cupped the back of his hand. ‘Well, they will do, won’t they?’
‘I tried. Bagged up all her stuff for charity and put it in the hall. Every day I told myself that I was too busy to donate it. But when I went to bed at night the room just felt so bare. The only thing that could get me to sleep would be a few drinks. . .’
‘And a few drinks turned into a bottle a day?’ Ruby asked.
‘Yeah. I became so dependent that I couldn’t get through work without it and, well, you know the rest.’
Ruby remembered how his drinking habits had worried her. The smell of whiskey on his breath, the flash of the silver hip flask, and the packet of mints he’d consume during the day. Then there were his bad tempers and crumpled clothes. It had taken a lot of willpower for him to detox and find his way back.
‘So one day you had a dig at me for drinking at work. Something just clicked. I came home and threw out all my booze, unpacked Debbie’s stuff and put it all back.’
‘But you’re OK to drink now?’ Ruby said, feeling guilty for coming round.
‘I’m not an alcoholic but I was heading towards it, so, I’ve made a pact – I only drink in company.’
Ruby shrugged. ‘I guess it’s better than being permanently pissed.’
Downes returned her smile. ‘I’m not going to risk my pension so close to retirement. I’ll leave all the risky stuff to you.’
‘Why, Jack Downes, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ Ruby said, her eyes twinkling as she spoke.
‘I think you keep me young,’ he said. ‘I wake up in the morning, and I think, what’s she going to get up to today?’
Ruby laughed. It was the first time that Downes had ever acknowledged her rule breaking as anything positive. ‘Spice of life,’ she said, wondering if he’d be still laughing if he heard about what she’d got up to with Sharon. He shifted position and cosied up beside her, taking the empty glass from her hand. His skin was warm and comforting to the touch. Ruby’s heart jolted in her chest; she knew what was coming next.
‘We don’t have to part ways here, you know,’ he murmured. ‘There’s a spare bed all made up, but if you prefer. . .’
Ruby knew what he meant but when work wasn’t occupying her thoughts, her head was consumed with Nathan. Lately, she had renewed hope that they could get back together and Nathan might be able to play it straight. She was not going to do anything to jeopardise that. She straightened her posture. Downes was good for her, and she would have enjoyed a night of comfort in his arms. Strong and rugged, he was just the medicine to finish a bad day. But it wouldn’t have felt right, not anymore.
‘Thanks, but I’m shattered,’ she said, truthfully, rising from the sofa. ‘If you want, I can come back after work and help you pack away Debbie’s things?’ It was the best she could come up with. . . extending her friendship when she had nothing left to give.
Jack nodded. ‘Sure, that would be grand. You can help me sort what’s of use and what’s not.’
‘Here’s to new beginnings,’ she said, taking her glass and raising it one last time.
‘New beginnings,’ Downes said.
Chapter Forty-Eight
A half-drunk mug of tea, a tortoise shaped paperweight and a box of staples… each item held down the piles of paperwork which flapped under the gust of icy wind blasting in through Ruby’s office window. She wriggled her toes as she released them from the confines of her heels, enjoying the sensation of cool air on her skin. What she really needed was to go for a run, to push herself to the limit until her lungs burned, forcing her thoughts to become clear. But now, as she stared at the information on her computer screen she wondered how she was going to talk her way out of this one.
‘Are ya ailing for something? It’s like the Antarctic in here,’ Downes said, making her jump.
‘I just needed some air to clear my head.’ She reached over and pulled the window shut, silencing the flapping paper and returning her office to normality. Or, at least as normal as it could be given what she had just discovered.
‘You might want to take a look at this.’ Ruby pointed to the latest witness statement that had been uploaded to the system. ‘It turns out that Frances Crosby agrees with my theory. She’s provided us with a list of regular clients – sanitised to some degree – who used their services.’
Downes peered over her shoulder, squinting, as he scanned the list of names.
‘Some of these are well known. Is this document restricted?’
‘Yep. Visible only to you, me and DCI Worrow.’
She allowed the words to sink in as Downes scanned the list. She could feel his breath on her hair, and worry crawled over her like an errant spider as she waited for a reaction.
‘Ashley Baker,’ he said, finally. ‘Have you checked the phone number?’
The list comprised names and phone numbers, with little else. But that was all that was needed to link DC Ash Baker with the victims to date. ‘Yeah, and it matches the one on his file. It’ll take DCI Worrow all of two minutes to cross-reference it when she twigs. The only good thing is that the troops on the ground won’t know.’ Her team were working to breaking point. Something like this was bound to affect morale. She cursed Ash’s stupidity, and cursed herself for not picking up on his depression sooner.
Downes exhaled sharply. ‘Fuck!’
A knock on the door brought Ruby back to her senses, and she minimised the computer programme, trying not to look as if she had stumbled across some terrible secret. ‘Yes?’ she said, shoving her bare feet back into her shoes. It was Ash, the last person she wanted to see given what they had been discussing just seconds earlier. She prayed that Downes would not say anything, not yet.
Ruby imagined Frances Crosby gloating over the ripple effect that her statement would have caused. She had hinted often enough how they had infiltrated the police, and now the evidence was seared on the back of Ruby’s eyelids. Ash’s name and phone number in black and white. Was Ash Baker
the prostitute killer? The question flashed up before her, taking her by surprise. Her thoughts sometimes did that. It was the side of her personality that wasn’t afraid to ask the question, the side that trusted nobody, not even her own colleagues.
‘Alright?’ Ash said, a concerned tone touching his voice. His eyes flickered to the computer monitor and back to Ruby. He must have known they were talking about him when he walked in.
‘Fine, sorry,’ she said, sweeping back an errant lock of hair from her eyes. ‘I was miles away. What is it?’
‘I was just asking if either of you wanted a cuppa tea. Luddy’s on the phone to the CPS, and I offered to get a round in.’
A tray of teas and coffees always preluded a call with the Crown Prosecution Service. Such consultations could take an hour or more to get through. The team’s cases didn’t just begin and end with the one they were working on, there was a never-ending backlog that demanded their attention too. There was never such a thing as a clear desk in the police, and an empty email inbox was unheard of. As Ruby declined his offer, she dismissed the thought that had taken her by surprise. Of course Ash had nothing to do with the murders. She had her suspect, now all she had to do was to find him. But a hint of doubt still lingered. She had been wrong once, could she be wrong again?
‘Is everything OK?’ Ash asked, pausing in the doorway. Ruby glanced at Downes, whose mouth was set in a thin hard line.
‘Yeah,’ Ruby said, forcing a smile, ‘just a discrepancy with the overtime figures. It’s sorted out now.’
Ash chortled. ‘Good, because I’m skint.’
‘Skint? You should be loaded, all the overtime you’ve been doing. What are you doing with it all?’ Downes said.
Ruby stiffened; she knew it was a dig. This needed to be handled properly. The last thing she wanted was a showdown between them.
But if Ash noticed the challenge in Downes’s voice, he did not acknowledge it. ‘Goes like sand through your fingers when you have kids.’ His words trailed away as he closed the door behind him.
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