The Property

by Catriona King

  Kyle frowned. “There wasn’t a conviction, just a police call-out. That’s why Ash missed it. Someone reported lights and noise on the DoE’s land around three a.m. on the third of July.” He flicked on through the pages. “A woman called Jessica Chambers. She lived in an apartment block nearby.”

  Andy lifted the map. “What number is it on the list?”

  “Ten.”

  The D.C.I. scanned the depiction of central Belfast looking for the number ten, and stopped at a street immediately adjacent to the DoE building. Wellington Street. Someone there could have had line of sight into the DoE’s land.

  “What happened after she called the cops?”

  Kyle shrugged. “A patrol car came and had a look around, but they found nothing.”

  “No lights?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does it say if they looked inside the DoE building?”

  Kyle flicked some more before shaking his head. “No. They interviewed the woman and did a walk around the streets, but-” He peered at the page in front of him in a way that said he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “It says here there was no night security-guard to speak to, so rather than wake up the owners of the building they just left!” He rolled his eyes. “Stupid plods.”

  He’d just set the file down, about to move on, when Andy made a rewind motion.

  “Hang on a minute.”

  The D.C.I. lifted Ash’s four case-files to compare something.

  “OK, but look at this. In each of these files there is a mention of a night security-guard, and they were dated around the same time.”

  He pulled out his phone, and within seconds he was speaking to the analyst in question.

  “It’s Andy. I just need to check something with you.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Those seven cases you found. In any of those was there a night security-guard mentioned?”

  He already knew that there had been in four.

  Ash was slightly puzzled why he was asking but replied cheerfully.

  “Yes, in all of them.”

  “All? He wasn’t very good at his job, was he?”

  The analyst laughed. “That’s what I thought. But then I checked the timings, and each of the crimes happened after he’d finished his rounds of the building and had settled down in the guard-room to have his tea.”

  “That room wouldn’t have been at the back of the site by any chance?”

  “Yep. And all the things were stolen from near the front. Anyway, why do you want to know?”

  “Because we’re in the archives and we’ve found a call about a disturbance at the site in early July, between exchange of contracts and completion and handover. But when the cops went to access the building there was no security-guard on.”

  “Just a call?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry, your searches of criminal convictions wouldn’t have picked it up. Anyway, I’m just interested in the guard.”

  The analyst felt vindicated, but it didn’t alter his certainty on what he was sure was coming next. More flipping work.

  He deferred the inevitable by asking a question.

  “What was the date of the call?”

  Andy grinned. “Thanks for asking. It was the third of July. The caller heard noise and saw lights around three a.m.”

  “OK, leave it with me and I’ll find out who was supposed to be on that night. That’s if the security firm still has records of the guard’s name. It was eleven years ago.”

  “Cheers. I owe you a drink.”

  “You can buy it on Friday night. There’s a black and white on at the QFT.”

  The QFT was the Queen’s Film Theatre, a small independent cinema that had been established in the Queen’s University Quarter half a century before. The two often took in old or arty movies together there when they had the time and there was no female companionship to be had. For Andy that seemed to be always, but for Ash he was currently between girlfriends, having finally had enough of his now-ex Ruby’s obsession with dressing him like something from prohibition America.

  Call over the detectives returned to their work, going slowly through the remainder of the files and managing to narrow them to just two that warranted further checks, including their three a.m. disturbance call. Kyle was just brushing down his trousers in preparation for leaving when Andy spotted something else that didn’t fit, this time on the map.

  His gaze flicked between it and the list several times before he said in a puzzled voice, “There’s a file missing.”

  The ex-spook leant in to look. “From which? The map or the list?”

  “The list. That’s where it is on the map.” His forefinger came to rest on a marker on the opposite side of Howard Street from the DoE. “Did you see a file that fits?”

  Kyle shook his head immediately and then headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to central archives to look for it.”

  Two minutes later Andy had packed up the files that they were taking back to the office and the detectives were standing in front of the counter in central archives, the D.C.I. smiling hopefully at the obliging clerk they’d met earlier, whose name he had just noticed on a plaque on her desk.

  “Dolores. I wonder if you could help us again?”

  The youngish brunette gazed up at him from beneath her lids in a way that was either sleepy or seductive, and knowing his luck she’d just woken from a snooze.

  “I can try. What is it?”

  She rose from her chair in such a laboured manner that any lingering hope Andy had held of seduction died a death.

  “Well, it’s just that when you gave me the list and the map I thought that they would match.”

  He set the two pages down on the counter as he said it and a flicker of interest crossed her face, followed by a suspicious frown.

  “You’re saying I made a mistake?”

  The conversation was taking too long for Kyle, so he waded in.

  “Yes, no, it doesn’t matter. Delete as applicable.” He jabbed the map at the relevant point. “We just want to know where this crime file is.”

  A further frown, this time stubborn, was followed by a shake of the archivist’s head.

  “If it’s not on the list there isn’t one.”

  It reminded the Intelligence Officer of too many nightclub bouncers who’d told him, “Your name’s not on the list so you’re not getting in”, so he responded in the slow and patronising voice that he’d previously reserved for them.

  “If. It’s. On. The. Map. There. Is. One.”

  Then to soften the message slightly he made a shooing motion with his hands, “Now go and find it.” He stepped back to lean against the doorjamb, folding his arms, leaving Andy to gawp first at the retreating Dolores, who was now wearing a small smile on her face, and then back at the D.I.

  “You were rude to her.”

  “Yep.”

  “But she still did as you asked, and she smirked!”

  Kyle corrected him. “Smiled. And yes, she did.”

  Andy’s gawp widened. “But I was polite, and she didn’t smile at me!”

  The ex-spook shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? Women like me. It’s a curse.”

  A curse that Andy would gladly suffer, but he had the good sense not to try the rudeness technique himself when the clerk reappeared and, instead of placing the file in his outstretched hand, clasped it to her chest.

  “You can’t have it. It’s a sealed file. That’s why it didn’t come up on the list.”

  Sealed? That meant something was up.

  Kyle, once a spy always a spy, Spence rose to the challenge.

  He eased himself away from the doorway and strolled across to face the secretary again.

  “Give me three guesses, Dolores.”

  The archivist gripped the file even tighter, but Andy could see her smile returning and it definitely wasn’t directed at him.

  “I can’t tell you anything.”

&nb
sp; Kyle leaned forward on the counter. “But you can nod your head if I’m right.”

  As a confused look flitted across her face he continued in a seductive voice.

  “Is it a sex crime?”

  The lethargic lids shot up. “How did you know that?”

  He hadn’t but now he did. He followed up swiftly before she had a chance to regain her control.

  “And the accused, probably a man, wasn’t convicted… no… no… it never even got to trial! That’s it, isn’t it?”

  This time Dolores’ mouth dropped open and Andy noticed a wad of gum sitting in the centre of her tongue. It made him feel better about being rejected; he couldn’t abide people chewing the stuff, so he would’ve had to dump her if she had. Satisfied that they had now dated and it was all over because he’d ended it, he gave her a kindly but pitying, ‘I’m sorry but it would never have worked between us’ look and tuned into Kyle’s next words.

  “It was a politician.”

  The archivist’s immediately superior smirk made the spook correct himself.

  “No, a policeman.”

  Her loud gasp was a definite yes.

  “OK, thanks, Dolores. You’ve been helpful.”

  He headed for the door with Andy in pursuit.

  “Very helpful, I would have said.”

  “And that right there is why you’ll never succeed with women, Chief Inspector.” Somehow Kyle managed to make the title sound like an insult. “Very helpful shows too much gratitude. It’s overkill. It makes you look needy and women don’t like needy men. Saying that she was helpful was enough. She was only doing her job, after all.”

  When they reached Andy’s car and climbed in, the D.C.I. put the key in the ignition and then turned towards the passenger seat.

  “OK, I’m going to ask. How did you guess that a policeman had been accused of a sex crime that hadn’t gone to court?”

  “I didn’t guess, I worked it out.”

  Andy sighed with exasperation. “OK, so how did you work it out then?”

  “Easy. A sealed file says that either someone’s reputation is at risk if it’s opened or it’s a diplomatic incident, so that instantly gives us a choice of politicians, police, doctors and the like. Sex crimes carry the biggest stigma, even from an accusation being made public, so saying that it was a sex crime was a fair guess for something they needed kept quiet, as was that the accused was a man. But... the fact that it hadn’t been made public meant he definitely hadn’t been charged or taken to court as often even people charged with sex crimes are named, and if there’d been no charge and no court case there definitely hadn’t been a conviction. With me so far?”

  Andy’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t push it.”

  Kyle continued as if he hadn’t heard.

  “If he wasn’t charged or tried that’s one thing, but even the names of people accused of sex crimes tend to leak, so someone must have worked very hard to keep his name quiet. But who has that sort of clout? Politicians or police, I’d say. But not your ordinary plod, no, this is someone senior enough that it would bring the whole force into disrepute if their name came out.”

  Andy had to admit he was impressed by how fast he’d performed the triage in his head.

  As Kyle buckled his seatbelt, a thoughtful expression appeared on his face. “I bet I could come up with a shortlist of names. Especially since I got the exact date. The first of July oh-seven.”

  Andy’s jaw dropped. “How did you get that?”

  “It was written on the file that the lovely Dolores refused to hand over. Down the side.”

  Andy shook his head and started the engine. “It was a good catch, I’ll admit, but forget the shortlist. If you even speculate and it leaks, they could boot you out for ruining someone’s reputation.”

  But even as he said the words he was creating a list of his own. Someone senior enough in the police for the hierarchy to want to keep his name quiet… someone who had been senior enough eleven years before. It would be a fairly sparse list, but at least one name familiar to everyone on the squad sprang to mind.

  ****

  The C.C.U.

  Davy was making some headway with his research, although he would have made it a lot faster if two of his assistants hadn’t disappeared off the floor, but after a quick grumble to himself about people not helping, he had considered Craig’s latest request of him and decided to put in three calls: the first was to the Police Aerial Support Unit, the ASU, who had a lot of useful radar and ultrasound equipment and often assisted with finding bodies; the second was to Andy, and the third was to Queen’s University’s archaeology department preparing them that Craig might require the assistance of one of their geophysicists on the off-chance that the ASU failed.

  Had the analyst been psychic he wouldn’t have complained about his absent helpers, because he would have known that when Annette and Mary did return no-one was going to get any work done at all. Annette had regretted her words on the stairs almost as soon as she’d uttered them, in particular the ones about Nicky’s clout, because while most normal people would have taken them in the way they’d been intended, as a gentle warning, Mary had greeted them like a bull would a red rag. She’d heard the D.C. belting back up the stairs, and by the time she’d decided to forego her cappuccino and go after her, Mary had hurtled into the office and straight up to Nicky’s desk.

  “WHY DON’T YOU LIKE ME?”

  The words were out before Annette entered the squad-room, but they were said so loudly that she heard them anyway, and she was tossing up whether to stay outside and watch the coming fireworks through the glass doors or enter like a grown-up and calm things down, when her conscience give her a swift kick and much to her own disgust she decided to do the right thing.

  It wasn’t done graciously, she was furious at always being pushed into the role of sensible cop by the absence of anyone more sensible. One day she was going to shock everyone and do something really outrageous, like… like... after a moment of unproductive thought she tutted in annoyance at herself for not even being able to imagine what that outrageous thing might be.

  But even if Annette hadn’t made the choice to enter she would have been shamed into it a moment later, when Ryan emerged from the lift with a sandwich in his hand.

  “Hi, Annette. Why are you hiding?”

  Her brown eyes widened. “Hiding? I’m not hiding! I’m…” She searched frantically for some activity that might require someone to loiter by a lift. “I was just thinking... well... wondering actually, whether to go down to the basement and get something from my car.”

  The sergeant nodded cheerfully and reached for the door handle. “Fair enough. So, is it in or out?”

  Happy that she’d covered her cowardice with dignity she swept past him into the squad-room, afraid to look in Nicky’s direction but yet unable to avert her gaze. Her eyes were inexorably drawn to the car-crash that was in motion at her desk and she had that in common with everyone else on the floor.

  Mary spotted Ryan as soon as he entered and lifted a slim forefinger to point at him, the digit imbued with all the accusatory power of a hanging judge.

  “You like him, though, don’t you? So, it’s not because I’m new.” The constable turned back towards Nicky, her agitation growing. “Why do you like him and not like me? Is it because I’m a woman?”

  Annette thanked the heavens that she hadn’t phrased the sentiment the other way around. “Is it because he’s a man?” carried overtones of sexual attraction that Nicky could and would take offence at, more offence that she was already taking that was.

  She watched the PA’s brows knit and descend on a face like thunder and hurried towards her desk, praying that Nicky didn’t blow before she reached her and managed to urge some self-control. Once words were out they were impossible to retract.

  So far all that had happened was that a young team member had asked why someone didn’t like her, and why they seemed to prefer someone else. It hadn’t descended into name c
alling, swearing or violence, all things that would have warranted disciplinary action, so the situation might be salvaged yet.

  In that desperate hope Annette shot Davy a frantic glance and then looked at Mary, the message clear; ‘Get her out of here now’.

  As it happened Ash got there first and harried the D.C. like a sheepdog would a lamb towards the kitchen at the rear of the squad-room, while Annette plonked herself directly in the PA’s eye line and gave her a beseeching smile.

  “She didn’t mean anything, Nicky. She’s young.”

  But the secretary wasn’t having any of it and rose to her feet.

  “She accused me of sexism.”

  Annette shook her head firmly. “No, she didn’t. She just asked you a question. Several in fact.”

  She pulled up a chair, hoping that the PA would retake hers too. She didn’t, remaining on her feet and glaring down the floor, while Annette calculated how fast they could both run and whether she could reach the kitchen first. She kept on talking as she calculated, remembering that it had been a good way to calm patients down when she was a nurse.

  “The thing is, she thinks you don’t like her, Nicky.”

  “She’s right.”

  Annette pretended that she hadn’t spoken.

  “But that you like Ryan.”

  “Right again. I’ll give the girl this much, she’s perceptive.”

  Ryan heard his name mentioned and sidled across.

  “Have I caused some sort of trouble?”

  Annette shook her head. “Not you, well, except that Nicky likes you more than she likes Mary and that’s made Mary upset.”

  It sounded childish even as she said it.

  The sergeant glanced towards the kitchen where Ash was now blocking the D.C.’s exit and taking dog’s abuse for it.

  “What’s wrong with Mary? She seems very nice.”

  It earned him a snort from the PA. “I could go off you as well, you know.”

  Annette’s voice hardened. “That’s enough, Nicky. Ryan’s just saying what he thinks. This is between you and Mary, and I know she’s not the easiest girl, but we need to sort this out.”

  The PA folded her arms tightly. “I’ll sort it. I’ll tell the D.C.S. and he’ll get rid of her.”