by Jack Probyn
Straight into the hands of The Cabal and The Farmer.
It was a miraculous indictment of the criminal justice system, but it had worked wonders for Nigel. He’d been playing the police and the criminals against one another and making everyone look foolish in the process.
To preserve the evidence while he could, Jake snapped photographs of the information on his phone, screenshots of them on the computer and then printed them out in the corner of the room beside Lindsay. Digital and physical copies. The hallmark of any good investigation. He compiled the resources in a folder from his desk and placed it in his backpack, the most secure place he could think to put it.
Just as he kicked his bag underneath his desk, Liam emerged from his office; he swayed a little, using the door frame for support.
‘Jake…’ he began, slightly mumbling and muttering his words. ‘Charlotte… I’d like… I want you both to… to head down to the SOCO lab and find out what’ – he hiccupped – ‘the latest on Richard Maddison’s DNA report is. See if… they’ve got anything. Pl-Please.’
Jake stared at his boss for a moment, incredulous that he was showing signs of intoxication. Sure, Liam had a lot going on – both in his personal and professional life – but if he wasn’t in any fit state to continue or have any sense of decorum, then he should leave and come back once he was better. If all else failed with the criminal investigation he and Charlotte were piecing together against Liam, then at least there was one last resort: unprofessional conduct in the workplace.
The stupid fucker was drunk in the office.
‘Of course, sir,’ Charlotte said, taking Jake by surprise. ‘We’ll do it right away.’
CHAPTER 56
TRUST
They walked in silence to the annexed SOCO lab at the back of Bow Green. Just after they’d headed off, Charlotte had made a quick call to her handler, and by the time they arrived, she’d been granted access to the inner corridors of the building. As they entered through the revolving doors and made their way across the floor, they were accosted by a domineering yet nasally voice which sounded as though the owner had been a radio host or a sports commentator in a former life. And a good one, at that.
‘Excuse me,’ the voice said. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To speak with Sandy…’ Jake said as he came to a stop. ‘Need to discuss an investigation with her.’
‘She’s been popular recently.’
Jake ignored the man and headed towards the double doors at the back of the entrance. While he waited for Charlotte to scan her key card, the man’s voice sounded, like a foghorn.
‘You need to sign in… please.’
Jake rolled his eyes and then turned to face the man, who was clearly making them work for a happy life. Then he skulked across the carpet, leant against the desk and grabbed the pen attached to a small chain. Jake scribbled his name and passed the pen to Charlotte.
‘Twice in one week?’
Jake’s eyes darted towards the man. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Twice in one week.’ The man pointed to another row on the sign-in sheet.
Jake bent down and peered closer at it. His name. Signed and dated.
‘Funny, I don’t remember you though. I’m usually good with faces.’
Chuckling awkwardly, Jake shrugged it off, waited until Charlotte had finished and then crossed the threshold into the SOCO lab. As soon as the door closed behind him, he ran his fingers through his hair.
‘That wasn’t you, was it?’ Charlotte asked, keeping her distance on the other side of the corridor.
Jake shook his head. ‘It wasn’t.’ He’d been forty miles away in Guildford at the exact same time. ‘But I know who it was.’
‘Who?’
‘Drew.’ Jake closed his eyes and imagined him waddling through the building, all cocksure and arrogant, forging Jake’s details and flashing a smug grin as he realised he’d managed to get away with it. On too many occasions people had reminded Jake that they looked alike – similar hair, similar build, similar facial features. The only difference lay in their height and age – four inches and seven years respectively. At first, Jake had taken it as a compliment, thought it was a good thing. Now he realised it was far from it.
‘You sure?’ Charlotte asked as they came to a stop at the other end of the corridor.
He replied with a simple nod. ‘It was right before we found Richard Maddison dead. He must’ve come in here to steal some evidence samples.’
‘The evidence found in his bedroom was taken from here?’
‘If I had to make an educated guess.’
‘But—’
A SOCO who Jake recognised from the countless crime scenes he’d been to stepped into the hallway, cutting them off. Jake and Charlotte nodded at her, and as soon as she was gone, they made their way up to the crime scene manager’s office on the second floor.
Jake knocked on the door but chose not to wait for consent before entering.
Sandy was sitting behind her desk, her attention fixed on her computer monitor. With one hand on the mouse and the other on her lap, she slowly turned her head to face Jake and Charlotte, neither fazed nor shocked by their sudden appearance. In her line of work, nothing shocked her – not even the impossibility of a dead body coming to life.
‘Jake…’ Sandy said. She wore a pair of spectacles on the top of her nose. It was the first time Jake had noticed them. ‘You’re in my office.’
He cast a quick glance around him as if to make sure of the fact.
‘Yes. Sorry to interrupt, but we need help.’
‘Who’s we?’
‘DI Grayson and I.’
Charlotte reached forward and extended her hand. Sandy took it and both women locked their hands for longer than seemed necessary.
‘I’m joining the team for a while,’ Charlotte said.
‘Pleasure to meet you.’ Sandy turned to Jake. ‘Now, what’s this all about?’
‘Richard Maddison’s body. What’s the latest? Guv wants to know.’
‘We’ve submitted the evidence to forensics. It’s up to them now.’
It was Charlotte’s turn to speak. ‘What about the fingerprint marks and the footprints – did you submit those? They’re of particular significance to us. We need those back as soon as possible.’
‘There’re only so many hours in the day, DI Grayson.’
‘I appreciate that. But we need to—’
‘Thanks for your help, Sandy,’ Jake said, deciding to cut her off. ‘You’ll let us know if anything changes though, right?’
‘Wouldn’t be doing my job otherwise.’
With that, Jake and Charlotte left. It wasn’t the outcome they’d hoped for. In an ideal world, they would have had the evidence that proved there’d been a second party present at Richard Maddison’s death. Maybe even a third.
‘Sorry about her,’ Jake said as they stepped into the stairwell. ‘She’s stressed and understaffed. You’ll learn what she’s really like soon enough.’
‘You mean rude?’
Jake chuckled awkwardly. ‘Yes and no. A lot of people rely on her.’
‘Have you ever thought of her being a person of interest?’
Jake hadn’t. In fact, he’d considered the opposite. To him she was a stand-up member of police staff, always present at crime scenes, always informative, always methodical and thoughtful in her processes and reports, always working silently in the background, slugging away, getting on with what she needed to. But now Charlotte had planted a seed of doubt in his mind. It was a tough lesson to learn, but at least he was learning it – that in this life, and in this job, he really couldn’t trust anyone.
CHAPTER 57
JUST DESERTS
Liam knew nothing could be taken for granted in this business. Especially when there were so many people – it seemed – who were against him. But, to his surprise, Jake and Charlotte had followed his commands without hassle. No fuss, no kickbacks. They’d been good little dogs and left th
e office so Drew could get to work on updating Nigel Clayton’s profile. And it made him wonder whether he was wrong about them. Whether he was wrong about Jake.
He didn’t know.
All he did know was that the great tyrant of depression was knocking on the door, waiting for further entry into the darkest recesses of his mind. But before he let it in, he embraced the dizzying sensations he’d come to appreciate in recent years. The swimming walls. The dancing letters on the screen. The true calm before the storm.
He poured himself another two measures of Captain Morgan’s. Somehow he’d nearly finished the entire bottle. It was enough to floor even the strongest of individuals, but not him. His liver had grown accustomed to it over the years and now treated alcohol like an old friend who frequently came to stay.
Liam hadn’t wanted to start drinking. It had sort of just… happened. The catalyst had been his wife’s passing. Sudden and unexpected. She’d been ripped away from him just like this investigation was being pulled from beneath his feet. It had been a dark time, and he’d relied on the bottle then just like he relied on it now. And the drugs. Oh, the drugs. Somehow he’d managed to power through it all while hiding his secret. And he soon became a poster boy for success, standing on the plinth of a hundred needles and a thousand bags of Class A, B and C drugs. But now he was near the top, and he was doing things he’d never thought he would. Things were happening that hadn’t ever been on his radar when he first—
His personal mobile vibrated, shocking him back to reality. He picked up the device and squinted at the screen. It was a message from Drew.
CM
Call me. The instruction was simple. Liam swayed in his chair and reached across to the bottom of the cabinet. He fumbled the burner phone in his hands as he tried to assemble it. Once the battery was in, he switched it on, waited, waited, waited, waited, waited, and then called Drew.
‘What’s going on?’ Drew asked almost immediately. ‘I’ve been trying to call.’
‘Off,’ Liam replied. ‘Switched off. Is it done?’
‘It’s done. Everything’s been changed. Nigel Clayton now has a history with Jermaine Gordon, Richard Maddison and Danny Cipriano.’
‘Perfect.’
‘Anything else you need me to do?’
‘Yes. But later.’ He hiccupped again, and this time he made no effort to hide his slurred words. ‘The Farmer will visit you. You just… follow his lead.’
Just as Drew was about to respond, Liam’s personal mobile started ringing. It was Tanya. Fuck, he was going to need another drink. He hung up on Drew without saying anything and placed the phone on the table, swapping it for his personal one.
Then he reached for his drink and swallowed a few mouthfuls before answering. Some more Dutch courage.
‘Hey, you,’ she said flirtatiously.
Liam grunted.
‘Everything all right?’
Liam grunted again.
‘Can you talk?’
‘Not to you,’ he said, finding that the words came clearer to him and that he enunciated them properly.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Tanya asked.
‘I know everything, all right? So you can cut the shit.’
‘What shit? Liam, what are you talking about?’
‘Don’t act dumb. Bitch. I saw you getting into the car with Pete. I saw you going to the multi-storey. I saw everything.’ He paused a moment, more to catch his breath than anything else. ‘Is that where you two go then, huh? Is that where you guys like to fuck, huh?’
Droplets of spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke.
‘Liam…’
‘How long’s it been going on for?’
‘You’re drunk, Liam, aren’t you? What have I said about this? You’re being stupid. Please? I don’t know what you think you saw, but I can explain it all. Honestly, I can. I would never lie to you. I would never do that to hurt you.’
There was a long pause. Liam deliberated whether to say anything or not. He decided on not.
‘Tonight? Can I see you tonight?’ Tanya asked.
‘No. I’m busy.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Should be enough time for you to get one last shag in with Garrison.’
‘Fuck you,’ she hissed. ‘You know I would never do any of this intentionally to hurt you. Please. Tomorrow. Usual place? Usual time?’
‘Fine.’
‘Please don’t drink yourself dead. I can’t let it happen to another man in my life.’
‘Not my problem. Not my fault they say women go after men who remind them of their dad. Daddy issues.’
A long sigh echoed through the microphone in his ear. Did he feel guilty about his last comment? Yes. Was he going to apologise? No. She didn’t deserve an apology. Not yet.
‘Usual place, usual time, tomorrow,’ he said before hanging up.
His and Tanya’s relationship had been tumultuous from the start. It was frowned upon and seen as a conflict of interest for a high-ranking senior police officer to be fraternising and involving himself with a member of the press, so, at first, their relationship had been clandestine – exciting. Just sex. No strings. No commitments. No loyalties. No nothing. It was the exact thing he’d needed to help him mourn the loss of his wife. But as they’d spent more time with one another, and as they’d started talking, getting to know each other, that had changed without either of them intending it to. And the things that he’d missed from his wife had come flooding back in droves. The affection. The love. The adoration. The companionship. Someone to be with, talk with; someone to hold. And now she was about to throw it all away for some cunt named Pete Garrison.
A smile grew on Liam’s face.
He couldn’t wait for tonight.
That man was finally going to get what he deserved.
CHAPTER 58
SCAPEGOAT
Jake hurried back to his desk, feeling as though all eyes in the office were watching him and Charlotte return from the lab together – like they’d just come back from a quick shag in the toilets. It was an innocuous task they’d carried out, but there was still something in his mind that told him to be cautious of everyone and everything around him. He’d given nobody else in the office any reason to suspect him of illicit activity, but it didn’t help to be a little too paranoid.
Falling into his chair, Jake swung his legs under the desk and shimmied the mouse until the computer screen awoke from its nap. Just as he was about to log in, his mobile lit up. It was a notification from Candy Crush telling him that his lives for the day were ready. Beneath it was a missed call from an unknown number.
They’d left a voicemail.
Jake unlocked the device with his four-digit PIN – the day and month he and Elizabeth had got married; a number he would never forget – and listened to the voicemail.
‘Hi, Detective Tanner… it’s Hannah… Erm, Hannah Bryant. You gave me your details. I, erm, I hope it’s OK to call you. I hope I’m not disturbing you from something. Oh, of course I am – you’re probably really busy. But, anyway… I, erm, I wondered… if you’ve had a chance to look into the thing we discussed? I’d, erm… I’d appreciate it if you could give me a call back.’
Shit. As soon as he heard her name, a pang of guilt knotted itself tightly in his stomach. For the past few days, he hadn’t even devoted a morsel of his mental capacity towards finding the evidence that would implicate Drew. He could say that he’d been too preoccupied with everything else, but in reality, there was no excuse for it at all. This young woman had trusted him to get to the bottom of it and he hadn’t. He’d allowed himself to become sidetracked when he should have focused at least some of his attention on Hannah. Maybe he was being hard on himself, but he didn’t see it that way; it was part and parcel of the job, and if he couldn’t manage several things at once, then what was he good for?
Jake stepped away from his desk and left the office. He made a left turn in the hallway and barged through a set of double doors be
side the lift, entering into the building’s only stairwell.
He tapped Hannah’s number and called her back.
No answer.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Another easy way out, not having to deal with the guilt of explaining his malpractice to her over the phone.
The tone sounded in his ear and the voicemail started recording.
‘Hi, Hannah. It’s, er, DC Tanner. I was just… erm, returning your call. I wanted to apologise for the radio silence. I haven’t forgotten about the investigation. As… as I’m sure you can appreciate, I’m having to do everything myself… so it can take… a while. I hope that helps? Call me if you need anything.’
Jake ended the call and hung his head low. What a shambles. He’d lied to her. Tried to defend his own actions. Even tried to make her feel guilty in the process. I hope that helps. I hope that helps? Of course it wouldn’t fucking help. Drew had destroyed a part of her. And there was no way he could make that any better.
You’re a fraud.
Jake turned his back on the stairs, headed to the office and returned to his desk.
As the computer screen loaded, it opened on the same page that he’d left it on. Nigel Clayton’s profile. Except now there were subtle differences, hidden throughout the document. Jake didn’t notice it at first, but just as he was about to close down the application, a couple of the words on the screen jumped out at him.
Leaning closer to the monitor, Jake read through the passages again.
‘I don’t believe it,’ he whispered to himself.