Dan lost patience. ‘Tana,’ he yelled in her face. ‘Listen! Shut up and listen.’ He held her shoulders until her eyes stopped rolling and she could focus on his face. ‘This man,’ he indicated to Allport, who was kneeling close by. ‘He’s not the man who murdered your family.’
Tana only moved her eyes to flick over Allport’s face. ‘He is. I’ve watched him all this time.’
‘No,’ said Dan, quieter now. ‘No. Allport is your father, Tana, and you are Maria Shepherd. He saved you in the fire that killed your mother and brother.’
Allport let out a choked cry. ‘Is it true?’
‘No!’ yelled Tana.
‘Why would I lie?’
‘No.’
‘My Maria?’ Allport crept closer to the stretcher, peering down at the terribly injured woman. ‘You really are Maria?’
‘And Moore,’ continued Dan, determined to get it all out, ‘he’s not your grandfather. He’s the one who groomed you to kill your own father, because your father and his men killed his wife and children.’ He shook her shoulders again, gently. ‘It’s the truth. Can you see it?’
‘Granddaddy?’
Moore lay on the sand on his side, struggling to breathe. He didn’t look at her.
Paddy O’Leary, sitting on the ground nursing his hands, laughed a long and pained cackle. ‘Ironic, isn’t it, sweetheart? What he’s done to you?’
Allport forced himself to stand in front of his daughter. ‘It’s a long story, Maria. Will you let me tell it?’
Her eyes flickered past him to the body on the floor. ‘Granddaddy?’
Dan realised that Tana had no way to process the information he’d given her. She lay quietly on the stretcher and her eyes were lost. ‘Do that later, Allport. Let’s get out of here.’
Above their heads came the whine and roar of the helicopter returning. This time it put on its spotlight and hovered above them, illuminating the scene. It also illuminated another group of armed soldiers who were approaching from both sides of the beach. ‘Dan,’ said DCS Oliver, ‘you’ve got company. Guess who?’
Lake backed away out of the light to regain some night vision, but Dan just waited. He knew who this would be.
Commander Alice McCarthy strode into the bright arena. ‘Right,’ she yelled over the down draft and roar of the helicopter engines. ‘We will take Moore, if you haven’t permanently damaged him, Colonel. Patrick O’Leary, you are on a charge of treason, so you’re coming with us, too.’ She held up a hand to prevent Dan’s objection. ‘You have the murderers. This is nothing to do with you.’ She gestured at her commando troops. ‘Seize them.’
Paddy used the time it took McCarthy to give her order to scramble out of the light on all fours and start clambering up the cliff. Dan watched him climb like a spider up a drain. He wasn’t about to alert the commander, who had come in and stolen their thunder, just as he’d predicted.
Paddy wasn’t quite fast enough, however. On a nod from the commander, a soldier aimed his rifle at the retreating figure and shot him in the back. The wiry Irishman fell back to the beach with a crunch of bones as he hit the rocks.
Dan and his team stood, shocked, as the commandos bundled both men onto stretchers and ran them away along the beach as quickly as they had come. In his ear, he could hear DCS Oliver swearing profusely.
‘Come on,’ Dan shouted to his team, ‘secure this scene.’
Larcombe bustled in, arrested Kegan and charged him before he was taken away. Knowles and Foster accompanied Allport and the injured Tana to hospital.
Ben Bennett’s team came in from the west. ‘Found Sandra Eastman,’ Bennett said. ‘She was fast asleep on a bench. We’ve got her in the van.’
‘Good,’ said Dan. ‘Why don’t you take her back with you, get her statement, and then get her home?’
* * *
It was a relief when the helicopter rolled away and gave them some peace and quiet. Dan stood down Lake’s team; only the remnants of his own team were there, standing beside him in the golden firelight. He tried to let the rage of impotence die down before he said anything. The arrogance was hard to stomach. Walking in and taking over. Shooting someone in the back without a second thought. And he’d bet there wouldn’t be the kind of investigation the police would put him through if he’d done something rash like that. Oh, no.
Into this seething contemplation came the awareness that the rest of his team were standing listless, staring into the flames and not even grumbling at each other. Adrenaline with nowhere to go does this to you, he thought. That and feeling cheated.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘we caught the Fire Goddess and she hasn’t got a leg to stand on in terms of defence. We got Kegan, and the rest of the gang. And we stopped another murder. Result! And it’s only just after seven pm. We could be in the pub for nine if we get a move on.’
Sally managed a weak smile. ‘True. But that poor, poor girl.’
Dan ignored her. ‘Bill, you’ll have to stay to set up the crime scene. Can you send for forensics?’
‘Sure, boss,’ said Larcombe, on the phone already. ‘Forensics is going to be a bit odd though, seeing as we can’t mention the spooks, and there’s blood on the cliff face, and at least two bullets but no body.’
‘I know,’ he shrugged. ‘You know, I’ve got no idea how we’re going to deal with that, and frankly, I don’t care. Let the guys do their thing and we’ll work it out in the morning. I’ll get someone from late shift to come and take over as soon as we’re back at the station.’
‘Least I’ll be warm,’ said Larcombe. ‘Should have brought burgers and beers.’
Dan turned to Lizzie and Sally. ‘You two all right? You’re very quiet.’
‘That poor, poor girl. How do you come back from that? Moore really is evil, isn’t he? I hope he bloody well dies,’ said Sally.
‘I’ve never seen anybody shot before,’ said Lizzie. ‘Only on the telly. Poor old Paddy.’
‘Yeah, well, it looks like poor old Paddy was not just Allport’s informer. McCarthy said he was wanted for treason; I think we can work out how Moore found the men he was looking for, can’t we?’
‘You think he was working for Allport and Moore at the same time, boss?’ asked Larcombe.
‘I do. It was the thing that puzzled me all along. However hard you looked, how the hell would you know that two losers like Ongar and Hamworthy would end up hanging round the back door of the place they had been ejected from? They were nobodies. Not on anyone’s register. Unless someone who knew about Allport taking care of his men at Exmouth …’
‘… told Brendan Moore where to look,’ said Sally. ‘Wow, bad news indeed.’
‘No wonder MI5 were hacked off when he disappeared again today.’
‘But they just shot him.’ blurted Lizzie. ‘In the back. How can they do that and just get away with it? How can it be legal?’
‘Okay, ladies,’ Dan said, ‘I know I’m brilliant, and know practically everything about everything, but I have not got a clue. And frankly, I don’t really care. Because nothing we say or do will make any difference to what just happened. So, if you can just put it to the back of your minds for a minute, can we get off this beach, write our reports and go for a drink? Because I don’t know about you, but I really need one.’
Sally put her arm around Lizzie’s shoulders and walked her back to the car. ‘The boss is right, let’s move on, love.’
48
The team parked up at the back of Exeter Road station, checked in their protective clothing and took themselves off to their respective desks to write up reports. Dan told the duty sergeant to oversee the booking in of Kegan.
He and Sally then concocted the best story they could, without giving out much actual information, and Sally took the ever-present Lisa Middleton into an interview room to give her the story first, as promised.
He and press liaison would need to prepare a much better story for the nationals. He knew the security of his country was paramount, but, as
a copper with over twelve years in the job, he also knew that the law of the land is supposed to be for everybody. It rankled when he understood how little power the police actually had when the big boys brought out their guns and trampled all over them. It bloody hurt.
He had seen people killed before, of course. In his first case as a detective sergeant in the Met, a boy was shot in the head as Dan was arresting him for drug dealing. He had been splattered with gore, which no amount of washing could shift. It had taken him a long time to come to terms with how shallowly some members of society held life. That most precious thing, casually blasted aside. And then there was Ian Gould, shot a few short months ago, and he still wasn’t able to go there.
Dan avoided hiding in his office and took himself and his laptop into the MI room, where he sat typing, and waited for the team to come to him. First in were Sam Knowles and Lizzie. ‘All right, you two?’ he asked, eyes on the screen.
Lizzie slumped in a chair beside him. ‘Feel crap, actually, boss.’
‘I know you do, Lizzie. It’ll pass. You might find it useful to speak to someone about it though; I did.’ He slid a phone number across the table to her. ‘Don’t let it build up. You’ll see more death the longer you spend as a detective. Find a way to deal with it, okay?’
‘Why, sir? Why did Moore do that to Maria? She’s the same age as me, you know. She really has been groomed, hasn’t she? All those years, fed lies by Moore.’
Dan shrugged. ‘What better punishment than for Moore to tell Maria that it was her own father burning on the pyre when it was too late to save him? For her to understand how foully she had been betrayed. Revenge, indeed.’
‘But how can someone be so twisted? What possible pleasure could Moore get from forcing a child to do that terrible work? The years he must have put into turning her, and all for this one act of vengeance. Sick.’ She shook her head and slid down until the back of her head was resting on the hard back of the chair. ‘A large G and T might help,’ she murmured.
‘Might, probably won’t.’ Dan said. ‘Don’t see why that should stop us researching it thoroughly, though.’
He walked across to Sam Knowles, who was rearranging his computer equipment, and put the same phone number down on the desk next to him. ‘If you need a professional to talk to, she’s very good.’
‘I’m all right, sir, thanks,’ said Sam, but he had two pink spots in the middle of his cheeks, and Dan didn’t think he was all right at all.
‘Just in case,’ he said, then cast around to change the subject. ‘I know, help me get the rest of the detail on the board, Sam, then we can do a proper sign off tomorrow.’ He picked up the felt-tipped pens and dropped two on Sam’s desk. ‘Now, how do we tell the story, make a proper report, and completely miss out the main event of the evening?’
* * *
Sally Ellis bowled in with Bill Larcombe at her side. They were arguing loudly.
‘Hold it,’ shouted Dan.
The sudden silence was a relief. ‘Know how you feel, but we have to let it go. This must not leak out to the press, and currently you two can be heard all over the building. There is no time limit on murder investigations, as you well know, so we had to let the spooks take Moore and O’Leary. So, stop it, and come and help us sort out the events as if they happened without the interference of MI5.’
Larcombe threw up his hands. ‘Just makes me sick, boss, that’s all.’
‘Get on with it, man. Where’s Foster?’
‘He’s gone to Waitrose for a snack,’ muttered Sally. ‘He and I will be having a little word if the snack is a tray of cream cakes.’
Dan’s phone buzzed, it was Claire. ‘Just taking this, then we’ll get started.’ He went into the corridor. ‘Hi, gorgeous.’
‘Dan, how’s it going?’
‘Actually, brilliantly. We’ve caught the Fire Goddess gang.’
‘Wow! That’s fantastic. Oh, I suppose that means you’ll be late home, then?’
‘Well, we should have a little drink to celebrate.’
‘Of course you should. Oh, I’ve invited your family and Neil over for lunch tomorrow.’
‘Whoa, need a bit more notice for that kind of bombshell. Why?’
‘Why? You’re not on rota tomorrow, are you? It’s Sunday. Thought we should clear the air – and we’ve not had them over yet.’
‘No, but, love, I’ve just solved a major case, and I’m up to my ears in paperwork …’
‘There’s always paperwork to do, Daniel. It will wait. You can have until one pm, but then I want you home. Understood?’
Since when did she start calling him Daniel like his bloody mother? And ordering him about?
‘Are you still there?’ she said.
‘Just about. Any more instructions, ma’am?’
‘Don’t wake me up when you get in, and I’ll get you up nice and early tomorrow with aspirin and eggs so you can get back into work. Love you, bye!’
He stared at the phone for a few minutes. Did you always sign up for a life of servitude when you entered a relationship? You did if you knew what was good for you, his dad would have said. Claire was angling to get his family back together. Got to love her for trying.
* * *
Mike Allport, or Shepherd as he now preferred to be known, stood quietly outside the maximum security psychiatric wing, and watched his daughter through the glass.
Next to him, the psychiatrist assigned to Maria Shepherd read through her notes and made a few pen marks.
He wanted to cry when he looked at the top of his daughter’s head: dark tufts of baby hair had begun to grow through the burnt scalp. Maria’s eyes were open and she was looking at him, but there was no recognition. No sign of life at all.
‘She’s in what we call a dissociative fugue state, Mr Shepherd,’ said the psychiatrist. ‘It’s very rare, but in it, the person detaches themselves from their identity. They have total amnesia about their life, because who they are and what they have done is too painful for them to contemplate.’
‘Will she get better?’
‘Usually time heals, but sometimes we never get them back. I don’t know how anyone could come back from what has been done to Maria, but there is always hope.’
She placed a cool hand on his arm. ‘You don’t have to come every day, you know. We will ring you when we see any change.’
Shepherd rolled his shoulders and waited until her hand had dropped. ‘She’s my family. Where else would I want to be?’
Acknowledgments
A small tribe of people make a book happen, and I couldn’t have done it without the following stars; early readers Liz Pinfield and Jill Turner, who gave constructive feedback on the draft; stalwart Andrew Vernon, who checked the police procedure; Joanne Craven, editor extraordinaire, who picked up on my most ridiculous errors, and to Betsy and Fred at Bloodhound Books, who devised the re-launch of the West Country Crime Mysteries, giving me the opportunity to revise and polish the earlier manuscripts and round off the series with a bang! Thanks all.
Death on the Coast Page 26
