“Tyler Duke’s business associates, however dodgy they originally seemed, were legitimate.” Frank stood and flicked through his notes. “Although, I’ve not dug below the surface yet. His recently acquired the loan and he made repayments promptly up until his death.”
Albie made a mental note to double check this line of enquiry for his own peace of mind. He knew only too well how some businessmen preferred to work.
“And the door to door?”
Rachel Fawn cleared her throat, “Door to door questioning turned up nothing new, Marm.” She fiddled with the cuff of her jacket while watching a sour smirk form on the DI’s face.
The weight of negativity which hung over the incident room crushed her with each piece of added feedback.
“There is one thing, Marm.”
DI Masters had begun to gather scattered paperwork together. “It had better be good, Watts.” She slipped the paperwork into a file and gathered it to her chest, then nodded for her to continue.
“It may not be connected, but I’ve just received a report of an attack on a male in the early hours of this morning. The victim was found by the lift where Mitchell was dumped.”
“Go on,” DI Masters urged.
“Well there isn’t much more information. The man was taken to QE hospital with a head injury and a few broken ribs. Took a bit of a beating.”
“DS Edwards? Did you get all of that?”
“Yes, Marm.”
“Well, off you go. Find out what happened, and take PC Watts with you.”
She added the file to the others in her briefcase. “She has a sympathetic nature. Definitely a people person, you could learn a lot from her,” she added. With a hidden splash of a sarcasm in her voice and a wink for PC Watts, she headed for the door.
Slamming the car door, Albie shielded his eyes from the early morning sun.
“Watts,” he said, catching Tanya’s attention over the roof of the car. “Seeing as you are apparently such a ’sympathetic people person,’ you can make a start.” She laughed at his smirk, flung her bag over her shoulder, and turned her back on him as he shook his phone at her retreating back. “Got a few calls to make. Be with you soon.”
“Evie, why is it you’re pissed at me when I don’t pick up, but I’m expected to leave a voicemail?” He gritted his teeth. It had always been one rule for him, yet she didn’t have to live by any rules. “Anyway, see you at one. Lunch. I’m buying. Meet in the usual place in Greenwich. If you want to talk, you’d better be there.”
Ending the call, Albie scanned the hospital forecourt. To Albie, the building was a manifestation of his deepest fears. He shuffled and bounced from one foot to the other in preparation to hustle his way through the stream of people jockeying to and fro from the insides of a skeletal frame of the concrete monster. A monster that sucked in any human life it could then spits out its shell. He hated hospitals, and he was yet to come across anyone who exited the same person they had been when they first entered. Even in his capacity as an investigating officer, he could feel the drain on his positive energy. Although, Watts would point out that it was energy he probably lacked even before he walked through the hospital doors. It was in the lift that he realised it was his second visit to this place in a week. Not a great sign for him or his colleagues.
Lights dazzled off the newly painted walls of the side room and enhanced the feel of the sterile surroundings.
“DS Edwards,” Albie said, nodding to the man in the bed. He slipped his warrant card into his inside pocket and waited while the nurse helped the man sit forward and puffed his pillow. He leaned back again with his brow furrowed, and gasped as he clutched his ribs. A crepe bandage wrapped around the man’s head emphasised his swollen, discoloured eyes.
Albie pulled up a chair. The patient was of muscular build, but he did not have a body builder's proportions. He filled the bed and at a guess was above average height. If Albie had to estimate, he’d say about 6’ 4”, 6’ 5”. Not an easy man to knock out. Although, in a surprise attack he could have been caught off-guard.
“How you holding up?” Albie asked, plastering what he hoped was a friendly grin on his face.
“How’d ya think?”
Albie raised his palms before he spoke and stopped smiling.
“Okay. I probably deserved that, considering. Let’s try again, shall we?” He hesitated, but the patient continued to stare. “I know you’ve already answered my colleagues’ questions, and I have it on good authority that her bedside manner beats mine hands down.”
Guy studied him with a poker face before nodding in agreement.
“I have a few more questions for you. It may help. What do you say?”
After a long pause, Guy let out a sigh. “Okay. Look, sorry about…before. Hate these places. I just wanna get out of here.”
“You and me both.” Albie fiddled in his pocket for paper and a pen. Instead, he made do with the back of an old rota and a pencil that was too small to stick behind his ear. “Right, shall we get on with this?”
“I just want you to catch the bastard, but I can’t remember anything significant really.”
“Look, Mr Pearce, we’re all after the same outcome. How about we go over a couple of things then call it a day?” Not waiting for an answer, Albie continued. “What can you remember? Talk me through what happened.”
“It’s not going to do any good. I didn’t get a look at him. Got hit from behind.”
“You said ‘he’. How do you know it was a man?”
Guy pinched the bed sheet between his finger. “Well. He hit me hard.” He raised his hand to the side of his head.
“So he came from the back but hit you side on?”
He nodded. “And I saw his foot. It was too large to be a woman’s.”
“You saw his foot,” he repeated, jotting a scrawl of notes he would probably have trouble deciphering later. “And footwear? What type of footwear did you see?”
“Trainers. White. Cheap I think.”
“Logo?”
“Not that I noticed. But they were grubby though.”
Albie nodded. “What were you hit with? Any ideas?”
Guy shrugged and winced. “Whatever it was, it was shiny and bloody heavy.” Guy scrunched his eyes, and Albie watched in fascination as the bulge at the side of his head appeared to pulsate under the bandages.
“Look, I’ve told you all a know. My heads pounding, I’ve had enough.”
Flipping his notebook shut, Albie stood.
“I’ll leave you to rest. Thanks for your help. Listen, do you need the nurse or anything?”
He spoke to Guy’s shaking hands before focusing on his pale face. But Guy’s eyes flickered and closed as if he was no longer in the room.
The corridor was busy, and there was a buzz of energy on the wards. Nurses were between the station and patients, and there were groups of white-coated trainees hooked on every word of the consultants who sashayed from bed to bed, diligently examining the clipboard of notes hung over the end of each bed.
Albie scanned the corridor for Tanya. He wished he’d paid more attention to what she was wearing. At the far end, near the quaint waiting room where sometimes unbearable news was given to families of loved ones, he spotted her, shoulders hunched in an effort to diminish the difference in height between her and the petite blond who had her full attention.
With focus, the light over the woman’s head formed a halo. As Albie’s eyes adjusted, recognition struck and he strode towards the light.
Tanya raised her head as he approached, “Just prevented Ms Jeffries here from entering Mr Pearce’s room. Sarge.”
With a trace of a smile, Albie pushed his hands into his trouser pockets and leaned against the wall. “Why are you here, Ms Jeffries?”
Josie lifted her head and took her time.
“It’s not a trick question. How do you know Mr Pearce?”
He watched her closely. She drew in a breath, pulled herself to her full five feet in he
ight, and locked his stare with her own.
“It’s none of your business what I do or why I’m here.”
Albie took a step closer, and Josie held her ground, hands on hips and a defiant smirk on her face.
“I’ll ask you one last time. Why are you visiting a victim of a violent attack? Now you can either cooperate by giving me an answer now, or I can question you at the station, which may just happen anyway. You are a living breathing link between two murder victims and two victims of attacks. So I suggest you start talking.”
Josie took a step back and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. She fumbled with a well-used tissue and pointed to Tanya.
“I want to talk to her.” she said already sidestepping in Tanya’s direction.
“It’s okay, boss. I’ve got this.” Tanya nodded in the general direction of the waiting room. “I think there’s someone else that needs your immediate attention.”
Just past Tanya the waiting room door was ajar, and through it he spotted a familiar jacket. He moved with the speed of a panther and grabbed Olivia by the wrist.
“Unbelievable.” He yanked her to standing and ushered her from the room.
“Stay with her.” He gestured at Josie. “I’ll see you back at the station.”
The top of her arm was easy to grip through thin layers of clothes, and she wasn’t difficult to manoeuvre until she started struggling and tried to wriggle free. Heat crept up his cheeks from under the tight collar of his shirt, but he continued to frogmarch her in the direction of the lifts, regardless of the stares.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Olivia yanked her arm away in an attempt to be free of his grip. “Let go of me, Eddie. Do you want me to make a scene?” she said, meeting a wall of silence and a forceful encouragement to enter the empty lift.
Albie remained tight lipped throughout their descent and only loosened his grip once they reached the foyer. He pushed her though the crowds and out into the air. Breathing deeply, he turned to face her, cupped her shoulders with his large hands, and forced her to sit down onto the bench directly behind. He sat, draped his arm over her shoulder, and, keeping her in a vice-like grip, he smiled at her though gritted teeth. To the folk who weaved in and out of the hospital, they resembled lovers comforting one another after being brought bad news.
“What are you playing at, Liv? Why the hell are you here? And don’t tell me it’s because of Josie Jeffries.” His questions dangled between them for a while.
Olivia picked at her nail varnish.
“Yes. I’m here with Josie.” She made eye contact for a second before once more lowering her gaze. She wriggled her shoulders and raised them slightly to loosen his grasp. “I’m not breaking any law. Am I?”
He squeezed her shoulder and inched her closer. “Don’t play games, Liv. Next you’ll be telling me how you and Josie are drinking buddies.”
“Josie needed support, alright. I came with her as a friend.”
Albie studied her face for a clue that she was provoking him for a reaction, but defiance was all he found.
“I can’t believe you. Haven’t you learned anything from before? Just for one minute, think about your actions. Whose case worker are you? Think.”
“Are you demented?” She leaned away from him and laughed. “I’ve learned lessons, alright, and I’ll never make the same mistakes again.” She pushed into his ribs with her elbow and escaped from his grasp. She stood and backed away. Albie leaned back and watched her retreat.
Olivia tapped the face of her watch. “I’m not working. It’s my lunch hour. And the only time I’ve been stabbed in the back was by you. So I’ll not make that mistake again.”
Albie chastised himself for his reaction as he watched her mingled with the hospital visitors and disappear back into the building. She was right. He was the dick who’d nearly ruined her life. She’d trusted him, and he’d used her to save his own career. Would he do the same again? To protect his reputation as a copper, he wouldn’t think twice.
“Shit.” A little old lady tutted as he jumped to his feet and made for the car. It was lunchtime. All he needed was an ear-bashing from Eva on tardiness.
28
The steep hill from the observatory remained just as it was when they played there as kids. Captain Wolfe’s statue stood just behind him, surveying the whole area, its steps a concrete climbing frame for young children. Around the base of the statue stood parents negotiating their kids back onto the path again with promises of ice cream and boat rides on the lake.
Albie checked his watch. Already fifteen minutes late, he began his clumsy descent down the hill rather than walk down the pathways like the other adults. As children, he and his friends had laid on the grass and rolled down to the bottom of the slope. The last one to the bottom had to complete a task for the others before the day ended. If Eva won, she’d insist he was a servant for the rest of the afternoon. If he won, Eva had a tantrum, concluded that he was a cheat, and threatened to go home if he didn’t race once more without cheating. He smiled as his heal caught on a solid mound and he stumbled, raising his hands until gaining his balance.
Coming to a halt, Albie scanned the grassed area in front of the lake. A short queue waited in anticipation as they watched revellers on the boats they would soon board. They chatted, laughing and pointing at the antics of the ducks on the water. Scattered picnic blankets were sprawled across green and brown patchy grass like square reserved signs, each filled with baskets of treats and surrounded by families relaxing and absorbing the atmosphere of an early autumn day.
Phone in hand, resigned to the fact she’d not bothered to wait, he prepared for the joint crunching trudge back to the car, he looked round for the nearest path. A man dressed from head to toe in denim with a large portfolio case over his shoulder stepped to the right and outstretched his hand in a formal greeting to a tweed-clad woman wearing the heels of a thirty-year-old and a bun of a fifty-year-old. The whole image was finished with glasses swinging from a chain round her neck over a patterned shear scarf.
Behind the pair was a figure who was engrossed in rooting through an oversized beige handbag. She lifted her head and looked at her watch. With a deflated demeanour, she hunched her shoulders and made for the park gates.
“Eva.” He waved his arms in the air and followed her at a jog. “Wait. Eva, over here.”
As he approached the picnickers, he strategically sidestepped the majority of blankets and only had to shout apologies to one family for surprising their son to the point of tears. He weaved his way around the denim and tweed pair who were speaking in whispers as they wandered towards a park bench.
He shouted her name through thick breaths one last time and came to a halt as she stopped abruptly. She spun round and charged at him with a mixture of pent-up anger and relief on her determined face that he’d seen so many times.
Unsure of which part of his body he should protect, Albie decided his best move was to show love. He opened his arms to her and grinned. “Nearly missed each other. Shocker.” He’d made the wrong decision, but realised too late as she slapped him full force on his upper arm.
“You bloody wally. Where the hell have you been? One o’clock you said.” She stood on tiptoes, shoved her watch as close to his face as she could from her five foot stance, and beat an agitated finger on the glass face.
“Love you too, Eva.” He laughed and wrapped her in an all-consuming embrace before pulling her to his chest and tackling her to the ground.
“Get off me, you idiot. I’m bloody fuming at you, and acting like a silly bugger won’t distract me.” She slapped his shoulder repeatedly until he stood. Shaking his head, he bent towards her. He waited while she brushed grass from her jeans, then raised his hands in a truce.“Why were you late anyway?”
“Let’s discuss this over lunch, shall we? It’s difficult to think on an empty stomach. Anyway, where are my favourite god children?”
Eva heaved her bag over her shoulder and followed h
im towards the gates.
“At your mum’s. There’re things I want to discuss that are too delicate for their innocent ears. You’re not going to shake me off that easily. But you’re right, first we need to eat.”
She caught up with his pace, leaned into him, linked her little finger with his, and followed his lead.
Leaving the bright sunshine and entering the dim interior of the pub blinded both of them for a few seconds, and Albie had to feel his way to an empty table in the corner near the unoccupied dart board. Silence met Albie as he delivered the drinks to the table. He took a long swig and cursed as excess beer dripped from the glass down his trousers. He wiped his chin, gave his trousers a haphazard dab, and took another swig before he felt he’d quenched his thirst.
“Food should be about ten minutes.” He fiddled with a beer map and waited until she’d checked her phone and slipped it back into her bag. What she carried in the atrocity of a bag bugged him at times, but never enough to ask. “So, what’s up, Eva?”
She frowned and put down her own glass.
“I should be asking you, Ed. Your nutty girlfriend, who by the way denies being your ex, is stalking us.”
Albie laughed and choked on a mouthful of beer. He could feel the gas bubble up in his nostrils.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m glad you find this amusing.” She gritted her teeth, and her cheeks reddened. “She’s watching the house, bothering Mack, and following me everywhere. That’s why the kids are at your mum’s. I’ve been trying to give Lucy the slip, but it’s difficult to be invisible with two kids in tow. If you know what I mean?” Eva stopped talking and moved back to accommodate the waitress as she served the food. She laid a napkin across her lap, cut open the pastry, pierced a sauce-covered chunk of chicken, and ate.
Albie stared at the fish and chips he’d ordered and wished he’d chosen Eva’s meal. It was always the same—whatever he ordered, other people’s always looked tastier. His mind wandered to Lucy. Her attitude was completely out of character. She’d always been independent, had her own friends and essentially a life of her own. Albie had always been so careful to keep personal life and work life in separate compartments. This was different, he wasn’t going to let his best friends feel threatened because of his relationships.
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