by GS Rhodes
“Sure thing,” DC Ravel replied.
“What took you so long getting back?” Owen asked. “We thought you’d gotten lost or clocked off and gone to get a pint.”
“I’m not you, Owen, we were busy.”
“At the crime scene?” Owen asked. “Did you find something new there?”
“Nothing at the crime scene,” Kidd said. “Took a trip to Belmarsh.”
“Belmarsh?” Ravel chimed in. “Isn’t that where Hansen is?”
Kidd looked over at Zoe who simply shrugged.
“Yep,” Kidd said, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. “Wanted to check he was still there, for my own sanity, and we also got some information out of the clerk that’s there. Which reminds me, DC Ravel?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I gave them your email address, they should be sending through a list of visitors in the next couple of days that will hopefully give us an idea of who has been visiting Hansen.”
“Why’s that, sir?” DC Ravel asked. There was genuine curiosity on her face, she wasn’t being facetious.
“We need to start somewhere,” Kidd said. “While I was at Belmarsh, Hansen mentioned he was surprised to see me. I took that to mean there have been other visitors. There’s one I could do with you tracking down—”
“You were at Belmarsh?” The voice came from the door.
Kidd turned slowly to see Weaver stood in the doorframe, his top button undone showing a little of his chest hair. If he didn’t look so furious, and he wasn’t twice the size of Kidd in the first place, he probably would have made a joke about casual Friday being moved forward to Thursday or something. But he looked like he wanted to rip Kidd’s head off, so he thought he’d keep it simple.
“Yes, sir,” Kidd said, trying to keep cool. Well, keep Weaver cool. He couldn’t imagine getting reprimanded by the boss in front of his team would be the best look. Plus, it looked like it would be enough to make Powell piss himself.
“To visit Hansen?”
“Yes, sir,” Kidd said.
Weaver nodded towards the door, his face like thunder. “Can I have a word?” He didn’t wait for Kidd, turning on his heel and exiting the room the way he’d entered.
Kidd looked over at Zoe. Busted.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Zoe shook her head before returning to her desk. Kidd shrugged before following Weaver out of the Incident Room, shutting the door behind him in case Weaver decided to blow his top in the middle of the corridor.
He didn’t.
By the time Kidd had closed the door to the Incident Room, Weaver was already halfway down the corridor, storming off towards his office. Kidd sighed, rubbed his fingers against his temples, took a deep breath, and followed. Weaver held the door for Kidd, letting him enter first. He then took his time closing the door, allowing the silence to settle on them both like a fresh coating of snow. It was loud and deadly. Kidd was just waiting for the gunshot.
“Sit down, Kidd.”
He took a seat at Weaver’s desk, just as he’d done a few hours ago but, in stark contrast to how things had been that morning, now it seemed like Weaver wanted to throttle him rather than welcome him back to the force with open arms.
DCI Weaver paced around the desk and took the seat opposite him, his brow furrowed, a sheen of sweat glistening across his face.
“You okay, sir?” Kidd asked. He wasn’t being flippant. Weaver genuinely didn’t look okay. That, and the fact he wanted to break the tension.
“You went to Belmarsh to see Hansen,” Weaver said, a statement of fact, not a question. Kidd stayed silent. He’d already confirmed it, there was no need for them to labour the point. “Can I ask you what the purpose of that was?”
“The purpose, sir?”
“Yes,” Weaver said, sighing heavily. “I’m not trying to trick you here, Kidd. I’m trying to understand what exactly is running through your head right now.”
Kidd took a breath, shuffling about in his seat a little. He straightened up, locking eyes with the shark-eyed DCI Weaver and trying to hold his nerve.
“After we went to the crime scene, we took a trip to see the two students who’d found the body,” Kidd started. “One of them gave a false statement, by the way, he’s going to come in to alter it for us officially, just so you know.”
“Right.”
“Not false enough to arrest him or anything like that, just a few key details missing because he didn’t think they mattered,” Kidd said. “But I told him everything matters because this is a murder investigation. Put the wind up him a bit, you know the drill.”
“Okay.” Weaver’s teeth were clamped together. The longer Kidd went on, the higher his dental bill was going to be. Kidd was wondering just how far he could push it before the DCI cracked a tooth.
“I wanted to go and see Hansen,” Kidd continued. “He is a very enigmatic man, sir, I’m sure you’ll agree with that. I had to make sure, for my own sanity more than anything else, that he was still there under lock and key.”
“I told you that he was.”
“I know.”
“I think I told you that twice actually,” Weaver said. “Once over the phone, once in person.”
Kid shrugged.
“Like I said, sir, I needed to see it with my own eyes,” Kidd replied. “It’s nothing personal,” he added quickly. “I trust you, I just wanted to see it for myself.”
“It’s good to hear that you trust me, DI Kidd,” Weaver said, his voice heavy, his brow still furrowed, heavy wrinkles stretching across his forehead. “Because you’re starting to make me doubt my faith in you.”
“Sir?”
“This is a little… against protocol, I would say, Kidd,” Weaver said. “I know you have a history with Hansen and a history with this case, but I don’t want you going off-piste simply because you feel like it. That isn’t how I want things done.”
Weaver was staying remarkably calm and Kidd couldn’t place why. Weaver often had a fiery temper. It was something of a running joke in the force because he also had red hair, but this was, in a way, more unnerving. He was doing his best to keep his cool and not give Kidd a complete bollocking and he couldn’t understand why.
“Sir, with all due respect, there were prison guards there the whole time, it’s not like I went in there and knocked him about or anything. It was just a couple of questions.”
“It shouldn’t have been any questions, Kidd,” Weaver said through gritted teeth. He was stoking the fire for sure. It was on the way. The full furnace. “We already have a copycat killer on our hands here, and journalists sniffing at our heels. I don’t want anything that could jeopardise this investigation, do I make myself clear?”
Kidd took a breath. He knew it had been a bad idea. He knew Weaver would react like this. That didn’t make it any less irritating.
“Crystal,” Kidd replied. “Anything else, sir?”
“I’m starting to question whether or not this was a good idea, Kidd,” Weaver said, flatly, sitting back in his chair, never taking his eyes off Kidd.
“Oh really?” Kidd said, not allowing his frustrations to show. “Why’s that, sir?”
“You’re acting erratically, Kidd,” Weaver said, laughing a little. “I thought it was a good idea to bring you back early, my neck is on the line here.”
“Alright then, sir, if that’s the way you feel about it, I’m more than happy to go home.”
“Excuse me?”
Kidd shrugged. “I still had about a week left of leave, sir, I’ll happily go and leave you to it.”
“I don’t know what—”
“I was having a lovely time at home,” Kidd interrupted, lying through his teeth. “Reading books, catching up on TV shows, do you know how bloody long Game Of Thrones is? Confusing as well. Having to watch most episodes twice to figure out what’s going on.”
He was overdoing it a little bit and he knew it, but Kidd wasn’t having this. Weaver had dragged hi
m back in here because he knew that he was the right man for the job. Otherwise, why would he bother even calling him in the first place? There were other DIs to choose from, DIs that would be able to handle this case no problem. The boss could have done it himself if he’d wanted to, but he’d called Kidd, he needed Kidd, and now he was trying to pull rank.
“Kidd, don’t be like—”
“Be like what, sir?” Kidd interrupted. “I’m just telling you that you asked me to come in and do a job, and I’m doing it. We got a lead by going to see Hansen. It might not be much, but it’s at least something to go on. It’s more than you had when I walked in here—” Kidd checked his watch, dramatic showmanship. “—six hours ago. So, are you going to let me get back to doing my job or do you want another sliced-up body showing up on your patch?”
Kidd knew he was laying it on a little thick but where was the lie? They’d had one body show up already and they were nowhere close to making an arrest. They could have another one showing up before they knew it, and Kidd didn’t want that on his conscience. Not again.
“Y-you did?” Weaver stammered.
“Yes, sir,” Kidd said. “I was about to ask DC Ravel to look something up for me before you came in and dragged me out of there wanting a word.” Kidd stared his boss down. It would be enough. He knew it would be.
Weaver cleared his throat and sat up in his chair. He shuffled a few papers around on his desk, an indication of busywork, of all the things he needed to do. He mumbled a little and cleared his throat before returning his gaze to Kidd.
“Very well,” he said. “Just don’t do anything stupid, Kidd. I want you to think before you act.”
“I did think, sir,” Kidd said, flatly. “I thought that I wanted to go and see Hansen, mostly for my own peace of mind, so I could focus my attention on this case fully and not have him in the back of my head distracting me, so I did it. We got a lead out of it. I’m not about to sniff at that.” He sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, DS Sanchez tried to convince me not to do it.”
“Did she now?”
“Yes, sir,” Kidd said. “So, if nothing else, there’s someone in the team trying to stop me going, what were the words you used, sir? ‘Off-piste?’”
Weaver cleared his throat, still looking uncomfortable. Kidd had rattled him. Good.
“Well then,” Weaver said. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you keep working with Sanchez for the time being.”
“Of course I’ll keep working with her, sir, she’s on my team.”
“Not what I mean, Kidd,” Weaver said, a smile creeping across his face. “She can keep a closer eye on you than I can, so maybe keep that working relationship up and things will be okay.”
“Sir—”
“Keep working with Sanchez, keep her in the loop on everything, and maybe, just maybe, listen to her once in a while,” Weaver said. “Lord knows you’re not going to listen to me, so maybe trying listening to her. You never know, she might end up saving your life one of these days.”
Kidd shrugged. He was probably right about that. Sanchez was smart in ways that Kidd wasn’t. Where he would rather rush headlong into something, she would think it through and realise that there was a better way to do it, a way that didn’t get either of them in trouble.
“Will that be all, sir?” Kidd asked.
“No,” Weaver said firmly. “I want this wrapped up as soon as possible, Kidd. I don’t want another body. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. We can’t have this getting out of hand like last time.”
Last time. It made Kidd’s blood run cold.
“DC Ravel mentioned a press conference, sir,” Kidd said.
“Yes,” Weaver grumbled. “The Superintendent wants to have one when we have enough information. Jump on it before the vultures can start printing whatever the hell they like in their rags.”
“Understood.”
“And I’d like us to have a lead or an arrest by then so they can’t nail us to the wall and plaster it all over BBC fucking News.”
“Please know that I am doing my best, sir,” Kidd replied. “It might seem unorthodox but there is a method to the madness.”
Weaver raised an eyebrow at Kidd. “I should bloody hope so, because right now I’m seeing more madness than method, DI Kidd. Don’t let it continue.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Having been dismissed, Kidd managed to bite his tongue until he made it outside of Weaver’s office and closed the door. He was surprised to see Zoe stood waiting for him, leaning against the wall opposite. She’d untied her long curls so they were now hanging down on either side of her face. She looked more relaxed than she had earlier, less severe somehow, the mane softening her. That’s probably why she tied it up for work most of the time. She didn’t want to look soft around all the macho police bullshit that happened in this place.
She had two disposable coffee cups in her hands. Without a word, she handed one to him.
“Thanks,” he said, taking a quick sip. Coffee. Splash of milk. Two sugars. She still remembered. Not that it was hard to forget, but it was the thought. “Perfect.”
He let out a breath and leant on the wall opposite Zoe.
“You look beat,” she said in a low voice.
Kidd held back a yawn, his eyes watering. “Being back on the job is more knackering than I remember,” he grumbled, taking another sip of coffee. “And Weaver being Weaver is also a thing I forgot about. Thanks for this, definitely needed.”
Zoe shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”
They started down the corridor away from Weaver’s office.
“How’d it go?” she asked as they walked. “I didn’t hear him yelling, so I assume he didn’t exactly give you the hairdryer treatment.”
“How long were you out there?” Kidd asked.
“Waited five seconds and followed you down the corridor,” she said with a shrug. “If he was going to go full Fiery Freddie Weaver on you I wanted to hear it.”
“So you’re leaving disappointed?”
“Devastated!” she said, clutching a hand to her chest dramatically. “So, no bollocking?”
Kidd snorted. “No. I get the feeling he wanted to though. He wasn’t impressed with the Hansen situation.”
Zoe gasped. “No, really? You don’t say. I didn’t see that coming at all.”
Kidd fixed her with the harshest glare he could muster, but it only made Zoe crack up. If it had been anyone else, he probably would have emptied his coffee over them. In fact, if this coffee hadn’t been the very nectar of the gods, he even would have done it to Zoe Sanchez at that moment.
He sighed and took another sip. “He wants you to keep an eye on me.”
Zoe’s face wrinkled in disgust. “Ew, really?” she replied. “That’s… I don’t know.” She thought about it for a moment. “That seems pretty patronising to me, Ben.”
“Glad you think so,” Kidd replied. “And glad to know we agree, because he wants you to grass me up if I’m acting like a knob.”
“Grass you up? What the hell does he think this is?” she replied. “I wouldn’t, just so you know,” she added. “You’re not doing what you’re doing because you’re some macho dickheaded DI, you’re doing these things because you give a shit and because you want this case solved.”
DI Kidd looked over at her. She shrugged. “What?”
“Just glad you don’t see me as some macho dickheaded DI.”
“I don’t even see you as macho,” she replied, taking another sip of her coffee. “Christ, this is good coffee.”
“You’ll have to tell me where you get it from,” Kidd replied. “The days are going to be long and frankly, I’m not drinking the shit they have here. It’s this or I’m out.”
“Hey, none of that talk, I’m your keeper now,” Zoe said, waggling her eyebrows. “You’ll drink whatever coffee flavoured swill you’re given and you’ll like it.”
“You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“What?” Zoe
gasped. “Me? That doesn’t sound right, not at all.”
“Could you enjoy it just a little bit less?” Kidd said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I will, if you will,” she replied, leading him back into the office. Unlike last time, DC Campbell, DC Powell, and DC Ravel all averted their gaze as he walked in. Maybe they thought he’d be in an extra foul mood after being reprimanded and be on the warpath. Either way, he appreciated them not prying for gossip.
“What’s next, boss?” Zoe asked.
“Don’t call me boss,” Kidd replied. “You know I hate that.”
“Will you call me boss?”
“Will you tell me where the good coffee is?”
“I’ll consider it,” she said, returning to her desk. She took her seat and turned on her computer. Kidd remained standing, watching her closely. She took a deep breath. “So, seriously, what’s next?”
“We’ve got a lead,” Kidd said. “We can go and talk to Colin, see what he’s been going to see his dad about, and then… well, we see what he has to say and we move on from there.”
“Okay, that’s a start.”
“Ravel,” he called across the room, turning to where she sat at her desk. She looked up sharply.
“Yes, sir?”
“Any word from the pathologist on who the victim is?” he asked.
Ravel nodded, turning back to her computer and making a few quick clicks. “I would have brought it up when you came in, sir, but you were busy and then you got dragged out by Weaver and-“
“It’s okay,” Kidd said, crossing the room to her desk. “What have you got for me?”
Ravel turned the screen to Kidd and he read what was written. For the second time that day, Kidd felt his blood run cold.
“What?” Zoe asked from across the room. At the look on Kidd’s face, she got up and crossed the room to look at the screen alongside him. “Jennifer Berry,” she said flatly. “Why do I know that name?”
