‘Apart from Geraldine Price.’ Bliss inclined his head as Chandler reacted with a sad smile. ‘I feel the same way you do, Pen, but she is likely to be the one true victim in all this. I cling to that thought because, like you, I have to find something to believe in. If things don’t improve soon, the idea of finding a semblance of justice for her may be the only thing that keeps me going.’
‘You surprise me, Jimmy. I thought you didn’t believe in true justice any more.’
‘I don’t, not especially. I think it’s a myth, for the most part. But every now and then a case crops up to make me reconsider.’
‘You mean, it gives you hope?’
Bliss gave an awkward grin. ‘I wouldn’t go that far. But Geraldine deserved more, and I’d like to think we can still give her something.’
Chandler tipped the neck of her bottle towards him. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
They clinked beers and both took a hit, savouring the moment in silence.
‘You seeing Emily over the weekend?’ Chandler said after a slight pause. ‘You’re having a meal together, aren’t you?’
Bliss realised his colleague was trying to steer his thoughts elsewhere, hoping to prevent him from becoming morose. Right now it was an easy ride to take. The thought of Geraldine Price’s murder remaining unsolved burned a hole in his stomach, so he appreciated his friend’s efforts. ‘Supposedly. Of course, I don’t know where I’m going to be with this bloody case, so we’ll have to see.’
‘Let me cover for you. It’s not a problem.’
Bliss shook his head abruptly. ‘No way. It’s your weekend off the clock. Emily is familiar with how my job works. Either we’ll get together or we won’t. It’s no big deal.’
‘To you, maybe.’
‘Pen, Emily and I went through all of this the other night. I told you, we came to an arrangement.’
‘Yes, I know. But just because a woman says she understands and is happy to go along, doesn’t mean she understands and is happy to go along. Now who’s the teacher and who’s the grasshopper?’
Draining his bottle and sprinkling the dregs over the side into the calm waters of the Nene, Bliss huffed a sigh and peered down into the river. He didn’t think he’d ever understand women, even if he lived to be a hundred. It was easier to bore deep into the warped and twisted psyche of a serial killer than fully comprehend the workings of the female mind.
‘Come on, Jimmy. You know I’m right. I don’t care what Emily says now – this understanding will not last the test of time, not when she looks in the mirror one day and tells herself she deserves better. She’s with you now because she thinks she can change you. Not today, nor tomorrow, but soon. She wants a relationship she can have faith in, one she can buy into. We all do, eventually.’
The sun was setting upstream, bathing his partner in a crimson-purple hue that for a moment made her look like an oil painting. Soft, warm ridges of light kissed the water behind her, framing her outline perfectly. ‘Isn’t that a bridge we jump off when we get to it?’ he said. ‘Pen, I could not have made myself clearer with her. Either this is how it works, or we don’t go forward with it. In the life-versus-work balance, I’ve always had my thumb on the work end of the scale. It’s always been my priority, even when I was with Hazel. I’m not about to change, unless it’s on my terms.’
‘Why not?’ Chandler leaned forward, peering up at him.
‘Because I never want to resent her. If she manipulates me against my will and I lose my edge at work, I’ll know it and I’ll always feel aggrieved. But if she wants to stick along for the ride until I hand in my warrant card, that’d be great. I have feelings for her – strong feelings – but she has to wait until I am ready. That might sound selfish, it may well be selfish, but that’s how it has to be. It’s the only way she and I will ever work in the long run.’
After a moment of silence interrupted only by the gentle bobbing of the boat and the scrape of a rubber protective float against the wooden dock, Chandler said, ‘And that’s what you want, is it? The long run, with Emily?’
He did not have to pause before replying. ‘I do. Despite all previous appearances to the contrary, I have no great desire to live out my days alone. I’m comfortable in my own skin, however, which has always made a big difference. I enjoy being around the people I like, the people I love, but I don’t mope around when they’re not with me. I don’t… I don’t miss people in the way I know I’m supposed to. The same way other people seem to. I switch it off, block it out, somehow prevent myself from dwelling on what I don’t have and instead focus on what I do. The one constant is the job, Pen. And I believe you understand that better than most.’
The pair chatted amiably for a while longer. They avoided talking about the case, the distraction reminding Bliss of something he’d meant to ask Chandler.
‘Did you know about Grealish? About him passing away?’
‘Of course.’
‘I only just found out. Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘I assumed you knew.’
Bliss breathed heavily through his nose. ‘Poor sod. All those years in the job and life can’t even give him a few years to enjoy his well-earned retirement.’
‘Yeah. It’s a shame.’
‘It’s more than that. Doesn’t it make you question your choices? Don’t you ever wonder how your life might have turned out if you hadn’t become a copper?’
‘Nope. Not even once. I’ve made a difference, and our lives aren’t all about us. How we live them, the effect we have on others, that’s all part of it.’
‘And then you hand in your papers and walk straight into your grave.’
Chandler laughed, as if what he had said was absurd. ‘Some people do, Jimmy. From all walks of life. But not all, by any means. Jesus, you can be a maudlin bugger at times. If you’re feeling your mortality these days, that’s just part of getting older. And you should be grateful for that. The way I see it, you got this far – far enough for your end days to seem closer. Think about all the people who never even make it to that stage.’
Bliss knew she was right: getting old was better than the alternative. ‘Sorry,’ he said, patting her bare arm. ‘My outlook can be pretty bleak at times. It’s my Irish heritage. The Irish love to enjoy themselves, but a few pints in and they all seem to relish talking about death. You want to hear my mother tolling the iron bell when she’s got a few sherbets inside her.’
‘One of these days I’m going to have to meet the esteemed Mrs Bliss. I have so many questions.’
‘Oh, she’d love you, Pen. She’s heard all about you, of course. I tell her what a dead weight you are. The millstone around my neck. I think she knows I mean quite the reverse. She’s pretty insightful that way.’
Chandler raised her bottle. ‘To Mrs Bliss,’ she said. ‘And to Sergeant Grealish. May he have found some peace.’
Bliss tipped his own drink but said nothing. He was not averse to melancholy, but knew how often the black dog was following close behind. He had fought against it all his life, and had no intention of inviting it in now.
When Chandler left, shortly after sunset, Bliss immediately felt her absence, the night becoming less appealing as the minutes ticked away. He’d had too many beers to drive home, and he decided he was not up to the short walk. It was a warm night, so he moved into the pilot area, reclined the cream leather seat as far back as it would go, wrapped his jacket over himself, and stared up at the sky as darkness fell and the night exploded with stars.
Thirty-Seven
Saturday morning briefing was a relatively quiet affair, though Bliss was surprised to find both DCI Warburton and Superintendent Fletcher in attendance. He had expected to meet with them afterwards, so their presence in the room unnerved him. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, but chose not to speculate; one way or another, he’d be apprised of his immediate fa
te before the day was out. To a team lacking both Chandler and Gratton he provided an update and case status, concluding the session by asking Olly Bishop to bring DC Hunt fully up to speed upon his return from holiday. There were no questions or last-minute surprises, so after Bliss had said his piece he traipsed upstairs with his two superiors.
DSI Fletcher remained on her feet while he and Warburton took a seat at her desk. She gazed out of the window, hands on hips. She had the same view of the scrubland at the back of the building as Bliss often sought out from the stairway landing, and although it wasn’t particularly enticing, the open spaces were an improvement on the road system and industrial units at the entrance to Thorpe Wood. Bliss hoped she was struggling with the best way to tell him what his punishment was, rather than still debating it and settling for a snap decision. She had entered the briefing room earlier without offering a nod in his direction, and her face had been a rigid frown of concentration throughout. He was relieved when she turned to face him, though his heart lurched in anticipation.
‘You and I have largely been on the same page since you were posted back to Thorpe Wood, wouldn’t you agree, Inspector Bliss?’
Bliss pulled moisture into his mouth before replying. ‘Yes, ma’am. I would.’
‘And you’ve found me to be frank but fair, yes?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘You respect me, respect the position, respect my authority?’
‘Again, yes, ma’am.’ Less enthusiasm this time; Bliss was not a fan of preamble.
‘That being the case, why would you not come to me with this phone tapping idea before going ahead with it?’
Fletcher was bowling him easy deliveries so far. ‘Two reasons, ma’am. First of all, to distance you from the ramifications if I was proved right. And secondly, because I assumed you would say no.’
The DSI hooked one leg behind the other and folded her arms. ‘You get no marks for honesty at this stage, Bliss. That ship has sailed, I’m afraid. Let me ask you this, then: having gone ahead with your rash and illegal plan, why did you not warn me about the results ahead of yesterday evening’s briefing?’
‘Because I thought you’d stop me saying what I had to say – not because you would have wanted to spare Riseborough, but because you would have wanted to save me.’
‘And what of my own reputation? How do you think that came across yesterday? Not only can I not control my Major Crimes DI, but he doesn’t trust me enough to take me into his confidence.’
‘I didn’t consider it to be an issue, ma’am; the opposite, in fact. I thought the more distance I put between us, the better it would be for everybody. I didn’t warn you, I didn’t warn DCI Warburton, and I didn’t warn my team. Not even Penny Chandler.’
‘But you told somebody, Bliss.’
‘Ma’am?’ He looked up, surprised by the comment.
Fletcher unfolded her arms, pulled out her chair and dropped into it with a heavy sigh. Her eyes remained on his the whole time as she leaned forward. ‘You must have told whoever ran the trace for you.’
Bliss had been prepared for this line of questioning from the start. ‘That’s not the case, ma’am. It was all my own work.’
‘Inspector, while you may not receive marks for being honest with me, I do frown upon dishonesty.’
‘I’m telling you the truth.’
‘Rubbish! We’re both well aware you lack the technical know-how to pull this off. Nor do you have access to all the relevant numbers you put a trace on.’
‘Ma’am, these days having a degree in tech is not a requirement. A simple app will do the job, and I obtained the numbers I needed by making a few well-placed calls of my own, none of which alluded to how I intended to use them. It isn’t difficult.’
‘I don’t believe you, Bliss. You’re covering for somebody, most likely from our own tech division.’
He was, but he wasn’t going to admit it. Instead, he shrugged. ‘With the greatest of respect, I can’t be held responsible for what you choose to believe or disbelieve. I freely own up to running those traces myself, but I’m telling you nobody else was involved. That’s where we are. Ma’am.’
Fletcher studied him for several seconds, before squinting at him and shaking her head. ‘No, no, no. You’ve come up with a terrific story, Bliss. Excellent, in fact. I especially like the part about why you failed to warn me ahead of the meeting. But it’s not the complete answer. How about you tell me the truth now? And be convincing this time; your future here may depend on it.’
Bliss licked his lips and thought it through. In his head, he’d delivered everything as intended, but somehow Fletcher had seen through it. He had to give her credit; she was better than he’d realised.
‘Okay. You’re right. It wasn’t you I was concerned about. I knew if I came to you before the meeting with what I had on Riseborough, you’d feel obliged to take it higher up the ladder. They’re the ones I was afraid would prevent me from going ahead.’
‘Why were you so certain?’
‘Because by that stage internal politics would have kicked in – just as it always does, ma’am. Chief Superintendent Feeley would have squashed it. Riseborough ends up being shifted sideways or eased out with a nice juicy pension, and nobody is any the wiser. That’s how it goes.’
‘And you didn’t think that was by far the best way to handle this matter? The thought never occurred to you at all?’
‘No. Because it wasn’t. It isn’t. It might make a few people feel better about themselves to sweep it all under the carpet, but the truth is the dirt doesn’t stay there. It seeps out and sticks to the heels of everybody involved.’
This drew a frown from Fletcher. ‘How so?’
‘Because instead of identifying the one true culprit and nailing them for it, we all remain potential suspects in the minds of those who know there was a leak. I know you have plans, ma’am, and I’m guessing DCI Warburton imagines herself sitting in your chair one day. Then there’s my team and their careers. All of you tainted by suspicion if the person responsible isn’t named and shamed. No matter where you all go, it will follow you, and your new colleagues will always wonder if you were the one who leaked critical information to the press. I couldn’t risk that happening. I had to tell my story in a meeting I knew would be minuted. I had to be sure Feeley didn’t get the chance to do or say anything to prevent the truth coming out.’
‘That’s still Chief Superintendent Feeley to you, Bliss,’ Fletcher said smartly.
‘Yes, ma’am. Of course. But my point remains.’
Clearly still infuriated with him, Fletcher hissed through her teeth and gave a nod in Warburton’s direction for her to speak up. ‘Inspector Bliss,’ his DCI said softly, ‘last night the Superintendent and I spent a great deal of time discussing every single aspect of this case. Our conclusion was that up until yesterday, the JTFO had run smoothly enough, and clearly you had made advances. DI Riseborough was both right and wrong. Talking to the media as he did is not something we can tolerate, though we all know it goes on. The price he will pay is for getting caught, not for what he did, specifically. A formal inquiry will examine the consequences of his actions, but I am quietly confident that being forced to leave the job will be punishment enough.’
‘For what it’s worth, boss,’ Bliss said. ‘I agree.’
‘I wish your opinion was valued right now, Inspector. Because Max Riseborough’s contract of termination is going to be festooned with all manner of caveats – one of which will be to ensure he does not come after your blood, now or in the future. He’s likely to want you charged, Inspector; if he were to go down that road, he would get his way, because your own lapse was worse than his. You committed an illegal act, and by rights you’d be off the job sooner than he will be.’
Bliss reached around to the back of his neck to rub a pressure point as a sharp stab of pain ground its way
through the cervical part of his spine. He had thought it was the result of spending too much time in the car recently, but now he recognised it as stress. He regretted disappointing these two women, but now he needed to know how badly he had screwed up.
‘Just get it over with,’ he said. ‘Please. I want to know where I stand.’
Warburton continued where she’d left off. ‘The reason you’re sitting here now, as opposed to being on suspension, is because what you did was not for personal gain. We spoke to Superintendent Conway first thing this morning and persuaded him that our own internal inquiry can wait until this case is over. He’s an honourable man, and though he was hugely disappointed in both you and Max, he accepts your motives were pure. Therefore, as far as Operation Limestone is concerned, you and your team have been given extra rope.’
Bliss exhaled his relief. ‘Thank you. Thank you both. I know it can’t have been an easy decision for either of you to make.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ Fletcher said, her voice clipped. ‘And don’t go thinking this gets you off the hook, Inspector. There will have to be consequences for what you did, but we believe it’s in the best interests of the case for you to carry on with it for the time being. To that end, are we absolutely clear as to where the operation stands?’
‘I think we covered everything earlier,’ he said. ‘If it didn’t arise in the briefing, then it’s on the boards.’
‘In which case, I think we’re both up to speed, Inspector,’ Warburton said. ‘You believe the best way to the victims is via the suspects, and your strategy is to apply pressure to them?’
‘That’s precisely my line of thinking, boss. Despite what my gut says.’
‘And what is it telling you?’
‘That we’re already too late. Walker has a chance because he’s the most recent. Having said that, we don’t know when he was taken, and if we work on the basis that the hand left for us on Thursday was not the first significant piece of flesh removed from his body, I realise now there must be some doubt about him being alive. Additionally, I can’t help but wonder how long our man can keep up the whole slow slicing method. At some point he’s going to decide enough is enough, at which time he’ll kill whoever is still alive. For all we know, he already has.’
Slow Slicing (DI Bliss Book 7) Page 28
